Chapter 34 32

Martin.Cylenus writhed in pure poetic pain.A two-meter-long steel thorn pierced his body from the middle of his shoulder blades on both sides, pierced through his chest, and stretched out to a terrifying distance of one meter in front of him. a little.The thorn was so smooth that his sweaty palm and crooked fingers couldn't find it.But though the thorn was slippery to grasp, his body would not slip; he was pierced firmly, like a butterfly nailed up for display. There was no bloodshed. In the hours after sanity returned through the maze of painful madness, MartinCylenus wondered at this.It didn't bleed, but it hurt.Oh yes, there is a great deal of pain far beyond the poet's wildest imaginations of pain, far beyond the limit of human endurance and endurance.

But Cylenos held back.Cylenos took it. He screamed for the thousandth time, a raspy sound that had no content, no words, not even a curse.No words can express this pain.Selenus screamed and writhed.After a while, he hung there limply, the long thorns flicking slightly due to the rotation of his body.Others hung above, below, and behind him, but Thelenus didn't take the time to observe them.Each is only trapped in his own cocoon of agony. Ah, this is hell, Cylenus remembered Marlow's verse, and I didn't escape. ②Marlowe (Christopher Marlowe, 1564︱1593): British dramatist and poet, who developed blank verse and innovated medieval drama. His main works include Timur and Edward II.

But he knew this was not hell, not after death.But he also knew it wasn't another part of reality; the thorn pierced his flesh!An eight centimeter wide organic steel thorn pierced his chest!But he didn't die.He did not bleed.This is somewhere, a certain state, but it's not hell, and it's not the world. The timing is weird here, and Cylenos has experienced infinitely prolonged and slow times before. Excruciating pain from exposed nerves in the dentist's chair, painful time from kidney stones in the waiting room of a clinic. Possibly slowing down and seemingly not moving as the hands of the biological clock freeze in shock.But time was still ticking back then, the root canal was done, the urologist finally came, and the results were immediate.But here even the air is frozen by the absence of time.Pain is the crest and spray that never breaks.

Selenos screamed in rage and pain, writhing on the thorn. damn it!He could finally say it: Fuck son of a bitch.The words were relics of another life, artifacts of the dreams he had lived before the reality of this tree.Cylennus vaguely remembered that life, just as he vaguely remembered that the Thorn Demon God brought him here, nailed him here, and left him here. Ah, God!Screaming, the poet clutched the thorn with both hands, trying to lift himself up to lighten his body, lest he add immeasurably to his already immeasurable pain. There was a landscape below that he could see for miles.It was a congealed pulp model: Tokizuka Valley and the desert beyond.Even the dead city and the mountains in the distance were reproduced in lifeless plastic miniatures.None of this mattered, because to Cylenus there was only the tree and the pain, and the two were inseparable.Selenus bared his teeth in a grin twisted with pain.When he was a teenager on Meta-Earth, he used to be with his best friend Amalfi.Schwartz went to a Christian community on a North American reservation to learn about their crude theology, and afterwards told a lot of jokes about the crucifixion.Young Martin then looked up with arms outstretched, legs crossed, and said, "Oh, I can see the whole town from up there."Amalfi laughed wildly.

Selenos screamed. Time didn't really pass, but after a while, Cylenos' thoughts returned to something like linear observation and pain as clear and pure as an oasis in a desert suffering unconsciously. In pain, Cylenus began to set time where there was no time. First, swearing makes him feel pain more clearly.Yelling hurt, but his anger had the effect of clearing his mind. Second, in those exhausting hours between whoops and convulsions of pure pain, Cylenus allowed himself to think.At first it was just trying to set the sequence, recite the timetable in my head, or whatever would separate the pain of the first ten seconds from the pain to come.Cylenus found that when he concentrated hard, the pain was slightly less painful and still unbearable, and all real thoughts were still blown away, but some insignificant weight was reduced after all.

So Cylenus focused.He screamed and writhed, but still concentrated.With nothing else to think about, he concentrated on his pain. He found that pain has a structure, a floor plan, and the whole design is more complicated than a Nautilus, and more Baroque than a Gothic cathedral with the most buttresses.Even when screaming, Martin.Cylenus was also still working on the structure of pain, which he found to be like a poem. For the ten thousandth time, Cylenus arched his body and neck, seeking the impossible relief, but this time he saw a familiar figure five meters above him, also hanging from a similar Sting on, writhing in that unreal wind of pain.

Billy!Martin.Selenos exclaimed, for the first time he really thought. His former lord and patron gazed into an unseen abyss, blinded by the pain that blinded Selenus, but he turned slightly, as if he heard his name called in this nameless place. And react. Billy!Cylenus yelped again, then lost sight and thought from the excruciating pain.He concentrates on the structure of pain, following the pattern as if he were tracing the trunk, branches, twigs and thorns of the tree itself.my king! Felanos heard a voice over the scream, and was surprised to find that both the scream and the voice came from him:

∮ you are a dreamer; Ego's madness thinks of the earth; Even hope, what blessing can you get? What heaven?All living beings have their own home; Everyone has days of joy and pain, regardless of his job only pain; only joy; clarity; Only the dreamer resents his day, Suffering more evil than his sin deserves. ③ ③ Quoted from Keats' poems . He knew the verses were not written by him, but by John.Keats.He felt the words further construct the pain that seemed chaotic around him.Cylenus understands that pain is in him, a gift from heaven to the poet, a physical reaction to pain and wants to turn it into poetry, and write down all these useless years of life in verse.That's worse than pain, that's misfortune, because God gives pain to everyone.

∮ Only the dreamer resents his day, Suffering more evil than his sin deserves. Cylenus yelled without screaming, and the howl of pain from the tree, more psychological than physical, subsided for an instant.In that sea of ​​single-mindedness there is an island of distraction. Martin! Cylenus arched his body and raised his head, trying to see clearly through the mist of pain.Sad King Billy was watching him. (Looking at him.) Mourning King Billy croaked two words, and it took an interminable moment for Cylenus to recognize that it was: Come again! Cylenos screamed in pain, his body writhed in an unconscious physiological reaction, but when he stopped and hung exhausted, the pain didn't lessen, but the part driven by his brain was overwhelmed. Tired and rushed out, he let the voice in his body shout, reciting the song softly:

∮ The soul that reigns here; tormented soul; burning soul; mourning soul; soul!I hang my head down, Cover with your wings! soul!I am full of enthusiasm Look into your pale realm! ④ ④This is a poem written by Keats about 1818 . The little circle of silence widened to encompass the nearby stumps, some steel thorns carrying the group in distress. Cylenus looked up at Mourning King Billy, and saw the sad eyes of his betrayed monarch open.For the first time in more than two centuries, patron and poet faced each other.Cylennus said the words that brought him here and hung here: Your Majesty, I am sorry.

Before Billy could respond, before the crowd of screams drowned out any response, the air there changed, the sense of time freezing shook, and the tree shook, as if they all fell a meter together.Cerenus screamed with all the others as the piercing steel thorns cut into his insides and rewounded his flesh as the branches shook. Cylenus opened his eyes and saw that the sky was real, the desert was real, the time tombs were shining, the wind was blowing, and time began again.The torment hadn't abated, but everything was clear again. Martin.Sethnos laughed through his tears.Look, Mom!he yelled, squeaking and giggling, and the steel spike protruded a meter from his shattered chest, and I could see the whole town from it! Mr. Silveron?Are you OK? I was on my hands and knees, panting, and turned my head toward the voice. It was painful to open my eyes, but nothing compared to what I had experienced before. How are you, sir? There was no one near me in the garden.The sound came from a tiny remote-controlled robot that kept buzzing half a meter in front of me, probably a security officer somewhere in the government building. It's okay, I said reluctantly, standing up and knocking the gravel off my knees, I'm fine.It just hurts suddenly. The medical staff will be here in two minutes, sir.Your biocontroller shows no dysfunction, but we can No, no, I said, I'm fine, don't worry about it, and don't worry about me. The remote-controlled droid flutters about like a restless hummingbird. Yes, sir.If you need anything, just call.The garden and ground remote sensors will respond. go away, i said. I stepped out of the gardens, the main walkway through Government House was now full of check posts and security guards crossing the landscaped area of ​​the deer park. The docklands are quiet, and the Tessex River is stiller than I've ever seen it before.What's wrong?I asked a security guy on the pier. After the guard connected to my communication recorder and confirmed my rank and the authorization from the president, he still didn't rush to answer. Tian Lun Wu's port was closed, and he said slowly: "It's a detour." detour?Are you saying that this river no longer flows through the Tianlun Five Center? Yes, he pulled down the night vision goggles to monitor an approaching boat, and flipped the night vision goggles back up after he recognized two security personnel among them. Can I get out this way?I pointed to the upper reaches of the river, and the tall portal revealed an oval gray curtain. The guard shrugged his shoulders, yes, but he was not allowed to come back from there. It's all right. Can I take that boat? The guard whispered something into the small microphone, then nodded.go. I got on the boat briskly, sat on the back seat, held on to the side of the boat, waited until the boat stopped shaking, pressed the switch, and said: start. The electronic jet engine made a sound, the boat unmoored by itself, pointed the bow of the boat into the river, and I directed it upstream. I've never heard of any part of the Tessex being closed, but the portal's curtain is definitely a one-way, translucent membrane right now.As the boat buzzed past, I shook off the prickling sensation and looked around. I'm in a big canal city maybe Alderman or Pamoro in the Renaissance galaxy.The Tessex River here is a main artery, and many tributaries flow into it.Usually the only river traffic here is the flat-bottomed boats and yachts of tourists in the outer channel, and the unimpeded big boats of the rich in the central channel.Today it's like a madhouse. Boats of all kinds crowded the central waterway, going in both directions.The houseboats were piled high with belongings, and the smaller boats were loaded with so much that it seemed as though the slightest wave or the wake of other boats would capsize it.Hundreds of iron-hulled boats from Qingdao︱Xishuangbanna and million-mark river barges from Fuji Star were also fighting for their way in the river; I guess few of these houseboats had ever left their moorings before.In the chaos caused by wood and plastic steel and plexiglass, unimpeded large ships passed like silver eggs, and the guard force field was fully developed. I checked the Datasphere: Renaissance was the target of the second wave of attacks, one hundred and seven hours before the invasion.I found it strange that the refugees from Fuji star would be crowded in the waterway here, because that world is still more than two hundred hours away from the deadline, but then I thought, in addition to removing Tianlun Wu from the riverway, the waterway The river still flows through the chain of worlds in the original sequence.Refugees from Fuji enter the river through Qingdao, which is where the Ousters will attack in thirty-three hours, and then pass through Tianjin Three, which is still one hundred and forty-seven hours away, and go to Minjian or Gera through Renaissance Star Both of these are places that are not currently under threat.I shook my head and found a less frenzied side street from which to watch the madness, wondering when the authorities would divert the river so that all threatened worlds could flow to the sanctuary. (Can they do it?) I thought.The Intellectual Core set up the Tessex River as a congratulatory gift on the 500th anniversary of the founding of the Balian.Graystone or others must have thought about asking the Intelligence Core to assist in the evacuation. (Have they tried?) I doubt, will the IntelliCore help?I know that Graystone is convinced that the basic idea of ​​the intelligence core is to exterminate human beings. This war is the only option when there is no way out.How simple is the anti-human intelligence core to implement their plan, just refuse to evacuate the tens of millions of humans who are threatened by the Ouster! Although the smile was a bit bitter, I smiled at first, but the smile faded when I remembered that the portal system I used to escape the threatened area was also maintained and controlled by the intelligence core. I tied the boat to the bottom of the stone steps leading into the brackish water, and I noticed green moss growing on the lower steps, which were probably brought by meta-Earth, because in the big In the years since the error, several classical cities have been transported in via portals, themselves worn out with age.I saw thin cracks joining shiny blotches that looked like sketches for Starnet. It was warm there, the air was too thick and stuffy, the sun of the Renaissance star hung low on the top of the gabled tower, the light was too red and thick for my eyes, and the noise from the Tessex River, even It's deafening here too, and the alley-like river is a hundred meters away.Pigeons circled restlessly among the black walls and eaves jutting out of the water. (What can I do?) Everyone seemed like the world was going to end, and the best I could do was wander around aimlessly. (That's your job, you're an observer.) I rubbed my eyes.Who says a poet has to be an observer?I think of some Confucian generals in China. While leading soldiers, they also wrote many of the best poems in history.And at least Martin.Cylenus also lived a long and eventful life, even if half of it was vile and the other half wasted. Think of Martin.Cylenus, I groan. (Is that child named Rachel also hanging on that thorn tree now?) For a moment, I thought about it, wondering if such a fate would be any better than getting rid of Merlin's disease so quickly. (no.) I closed my eyes, trying not to think about anything, hoping that I could connect with Sol, so that I could know something related to the fate of the child. The boat swayed slightly due to the distant water waves.Above me, pigeons flew to one roof and cooed to each other. I don't care how difficult it is, Mena.Graystone shouted: I want the whole fleet to go to the Vega system to guard the gate of heaven.Then move some of the necessary forces to the Valley of the Gods and other threatened worlds.The only advantage we have right now is mobility! Admiral Singh's face darkened with anger.It's too dangerous, President!If we moved the fleet directly to the Vega system, we would run the risk of being cut off and trapped there, and they would definitely try to destroy the only planet that connects the system to the Ten Thousand Stars Network. Protect there!Graystone snapped: That's the job of those expensive warships. Singh looked to Mopurgo and the other generals for assistance, but no one spoke.This group of people is in the war room of the administrative center, the walls are filled with light curtains and rows of documents that are constantly moving.No one is looking at the wall. This is to use all of our resources to protect a single planet in Hyperion space.Admiral Singh said, his voice was low, and he said carefully every word, retreating under the line of fire, especially under the attack of the entire chaos army, is very difficult. If that planet is destroyed, our fleet and There will be an eighteen-month time debt between Wanxing.com, and before they can get back, this battle will be lost long ago. Graystone nodded sharply. I'm not asking you to risk that planet until the entire fleet is mobilized. I have agreed to let them occupy Highbury before we can withdraw all the ships. Ang Ke, I insisted that we must not surrender several worlds of Wanxing.com without a fight. General Mopurgo stands up, this Lutherian looks exhausted, sir, we are planning to engage, but it would make more sense to start by defending Hebron or Renaissance, not only that we have nearly five days time to prepare, and But then we will lose five worlds!Graystone interrupted him and said: Tens of millions of citizens of the Hegemony, what a loss!Heaven's Gate would be a terrible loss, but the Valley of the Gods is an irreplaceable cultural and ecological treasure. President, Secretary of Defense Allen."There is evidence that there has been collusion for years between the Templars and the so-called Church of the Thorns, and much of the money of the Church of the Thorns comes from Graystone waved the man to shut up.I don't care about that.Just the thought of losing the Valley of the Gods is overwhelming.If we can't defend the Aurora and Heaven's Gate, we'll put our defenses on Templar planets.That's the final word. Singh, who looked as if he was weighed down by invisible chains, forced a sardonic smile.That only buys us less than an hour, President. Not much more to say, Graystone said: Well, what's the state of unrest in Luthers? Hunter cleared his throat, his demeanor as usual servile and unhurried.Report to the president, at least five hives are involved, and hundreds of millions of property have been destroyed.The Allied Army troops have been transferred from Free State, and it seems that the worst acts of looting and sabotage have been stopped.But when the portals in these places will be repaired is still unpredictable.There is no doubt that the Jing Demon God Church is responsible for this matter. The earliest riots in Bergstone were caused by the demonstrations of church fanatics.The Archbishop broke into the HTV show and was cut off later, yes Graystone lowered his head. It turned out that he finally showed his face.Is he in Luthers now? Report to the president, we don't know, Hunter replied: The relevant units of the Ministry of Communications are tracking down the whereabouts of him and his cronies. Graystone turned the swivel chair around to face a young man I didn't recognize for a moment.It was William.Argenta.Lieutenant Colonel Lee, the hero of the Maui-Covenant campaign.The last time I heard from him, the young man was transferred to the frontier system for speaking out before his superiors.Now the epaulettes of his Confederate Navy uniform are gold and emerald green Rear Admiral ranks. How do you feel about playing against each world?Graystone asked him, in complete disregard of her own declaration that it was final. I think it's a big mistake, Lee said: All nine rebels are attacking at full strength, and the only one we don't have to worry about for three years, assuming we can get away with it, is the one that's attacking Hyperion right now.If we concentrate even half of our fleet to face the attack on the Valley of the Gods, then it is almost 100% impossible for us to transfer these forces to protect the other eight worlds that were attacked in the first wave. Graystone rubbed his lower lip.What do you suggest? Major General Li took a breath.I suggest that we reduce losses, destroy the teleportation base points in those nine galaxies, and prepare to attack before the second wave of rebellious troops reaches the inhabited galaxies. There was commotion around the conference table.Senator Fedestine of Barnard's Star stood up and shouted. Graystone waited until the commotion died down.You mean, meet halfway?Take the initiative to fight back against the rebellious army, isn't it waiting to fight a defensive battle? Yes, President. Graystone pointed at Admiral Singh.Can this be done?Can we plan, prepare, then launch the attack, within ninety-four hours from now of standard time? Singh straightened his body and stood at attention.possible?Uh maybe, President.However, Wanxing.com lost nine worlds, resulting in political backlash, er, and logistical difficulties. But does it work?Graystone asked. Uh yes, President, but in case Go ahead and do it.Graystone said, and stood up, and the others stood up hastily.Senator Fedestine, I want to meet in my office with you and other representatives from affected areas.Li, Alan, please keep me informed of the turmoil in Luthers.Four hours later, we reconvened our operations meeting here.Good afternoon, gentlemen and ladies. I walked down the street a little dazedly, thinking only of echoes.I stayed away from the Tessex, where there were fewer canals, the bridges for pedestrians were much wider, and the crowds crowded the streets.I let my comm take me to a few different portal stations, but the crowds were bigger each time.It took me a few minutes to figure out that those residents of Renaissance Star who wanted to leave not only wanted to squeeze in, but also tourists from all over Wanxingwang wanted to squeeze in. Who considered the question of millions of curious people teleporting in to watch the war begin. I don't know how I dreamed about those conversations in Greystone's Situation Room, but I have no doubts about their authenticity.Looking back now, I remember the details of all the dreams in the long nights past, not just Hyperion's dreams, but also the details of the president's walks to various worlds and high-level meetings. (Who the hell am I?) A cyborg is a human-like remote-controlled robot that is an appendage of the AI ​​and in my case the regenerated personality of the AI ​​is safely hidden somewhere in the intelligence core.It makes sense that the Intellectual Core knows everything in the government building and everything in the various human leaders.Humans are tired of living with an AI that controls everything, just like how Southern families felt about speaking in front of their black slaves in the pre-Civil War era on Earth.There is nothing to be done about it, except for the lowest ranks of the hive poor, everyone is equipped with a communication recorder with a physiological monitor, many people are implanted with chips, and each one is connected to the music of the data circle. Humans who control certain parts of the Datasphere, or rely on various functions of the Datasphere, accept that they have no privacy.An artist on the Hope Star once said to me: Having sex or a couple quarreling while the home monitor is on is like undressing in front of cats and dogs, which will make you hesitate for the first time, and then ignore it. Like I'm going to connect to some channel that only the intelligence core knows?There's an easy way to figure it out: leave my cyborg body, just as Braun and I did the last time I shared their perceptions, and enter the Intellectual Core via the Highway of the Great Datasphere. no. Just thinking about it made me dizzy, almost sick, and I found a bench, sat down, dropped my head between my knees, and took long, slow breaths.Crowds pass by, and someone speaks to them through a loudspeaker in the distance. I am hungry.I haven't eaten for at least twenty-four hours, and whether I'm a mod or not, I'm physically weak and hungry.I squeezed my way into a side street where vendors hawked their wares on wheelbarrows above the general din. I found the one with the shortest queue, ordered fried dumplings with honey, a cup of strong Brescia coffee, and a bag of cake with salad in the middle, and paid the bill to the proprietress with a universal card.I climbed the stairs to an abandoned house, sat on the balcony and ate.The food tasted so good that I was sipping my coffee and thinking about getting another gnocchi when I noticed that the people in the square below were no longer shoving aimlessly, but standing in a small group. A man by the central fountain.Their voices from the loudspeakers floated to me over the heads of the crowd: The angel of retribution has come among us, the prophecies are fulfilled, the millennium comes and the Avatar calls for such a sacrifice as prophesied by the Church of Final Reconciliation, the Church has known, always known, that there must be such an atonement and a compromise It's too late for a solution, and it's too late for a fratricidal battle. We've come to the end of mankind, the retribution has begun, and the millennium of God is coming. I recognized the men in red as priests from the Church of the Thorn Demon God, and the crowd was echoing what at first were sporadic cries of approval, and someone yelled yes, yes!and amen!Then chanted in unison, many people clenched their fists and raised their fists above the crowd's heads, and there were excited shouts.If nothing else, the sentiment is contagious.There are many religions in Wanxing.com in this century, just like Rome before the Christian Era: They advocate tolerance and tolerance, and they are like Gnostic Zen for religious robes. Most of them synthesize multiple teachings and explore the inner world, rather than persuasion. The tone was mildly sarcastic and indifferent to the impact of religion. But it's different now, in this square. I was thinking about how free the mob has been in the last few hundred years: to form a mob, there must be a public meeting, and in our time, to have a public meeting, there must be a connection between individuals through the Council of Everything network or other channels, It is really difficult to create the enthusiasm of the masses when people are separated by kilometers or light years and can only be connected by ordinary wires or FTL communication cables. Suddenly I was awakened from my contemplation by the roar of the crowd, and a thousand faces turned towards me There's one of them right there!The cleric of the Jing Demon God Sect shouted, his red robe flashed, and he pointed to my side, a person from the closed circle of the Balian, a sinner who brought us redemption today is that person And those like him, want Jing Demon God's incarnation to make you pay for his sins, while he and others are safely hidden in the secret world set up by the top of the Alliance for this day! I put the cup of coffee down, take the last bite of the gnocchi, and stare.That guy is talking nonsense.But how did he know that I was from Tian Lun Wu?And how do you know about my relationship with Greystone?I looked again, covering my eyes with my hands to block the glare, trying to ignore the faces raised towards me and the fists shaking, just focusing on the face in the red robe Oh My God!It's Shiben Sai.Reynolds, the action artist, the last time I saw him was at Treetops, trying to dominate the conversation at the table.Reynolds had shaved off his curly, close-cropped hair, leaving only a Bramble braid at the back, but his face was still tanned and handsome, even now twisted with rage and superstition. catch him!That Bramble cult instigator, Reynolds, pointed in my direction and yelled: Catch him and make him pay for the destruction of our home, the death of our family, and the end of the world! I literally looked back and thought this arrogant and posturing guy must not be talking about me. But he was talking about me.And this group of people is enough to turn into a mob. The wave of people closest to this side came towards me screaming and cursing loudly, waving their fists and spitting, and these crowds expanded to other people in the crowd, Eventually even the people below me on the edge of the crowd moved toward me so they wouldn't get knocked over. The crowd turns into a roaring, shouting, screaming mob whose combined IQ is far lower than the humblest individual among them.The mob has only passion and no brains. I didn't want to stay and explain to them, the crowd parted and started rushing towards the stairs on either side of me, I turned to try the sealed door behind me, it was locked. With my second kick, the door fell inward.I slipped through the hole before the outstretched hands caught me, and ran up a dark staircase into an ancient musty living room.There was a yelp and a crackling, and the mob was knocking down the door behind me. There is an apartment on the third floor. Although it is an abandoned house, people live in it.The door was unlocked, and as I opened it, I heard footsteps on the floor below me. Please help me to stop my mouth.There are three women in the dark room, probably three generations of women in the same family, because they look very similar.All three sat on tattered chairs, dressed in filthy rags, with white arms outstretched and pale fingers curled like they were strangling an invisible ball.I saw a thin metal cable snaking from the oldest woman's white hair to a black socket on the dusty tabletop, the same cable coming from the skulls of my daughter and granddaughter out. Electrician.Appears to be the last stage of the ascending link anorexia nervosa, someone should come here occasionally to feed them intravenously and change their dirty clothes, but maybe the scare of war keeps their caretakers at bay . Footsteps sounded on the stairs and I closed the door and sprinted up two more flights of locked doors or empty rooms with water dripping from broken slats.Empty counterclockwise syringes were scattered on the floor like drink bottles. (It's a classy lot here, really,) I thought. I reached the roof ten steps ahead of the group, and the blind enthusiasm the mob had lost a little in leaving their mentor found it again in the dark and closed stairwell.They might have forgotten why they were chasing me, but that made me even more reluctant to be caught. I slammed the broken door shut, looking for a lock, or anything to hold it back, anything.There was no lock, nothing big enough to block the door, and the sound of hurried feet had reached the last flight of stairs. I looked around on the roof, the little dish antenna like a blossoming crooked rusty toadstool, clothes hanging on a line that seemed to have been forgotten for many years, a dozen or so rotting pigeons corpses, and an old viken vican electromagnetic car. I ran to the electromagnetic car before the mob showed up at the door. It was a museum piece. The windshield was full of dust and pigeon droppings. Someone took the original lift-off device and replaced it with It is a sub-standard black market product that has never passed the inspection.The plexiglass shield thrown in the back seat was torn and black, as if it had been used as a target for a laser gun. However, the more important thing at present is that this car does not have a palmprint recognition lock, only a lock head that uses a key, which has been broken long ago.I jumped into the dusty driver's seat and tried to slam the door shut but it wouldn't close and hung there ajar, not thinking too much about the odds the car would start or the mob caught The chances of me being dragged downstairs to negotiate with them are even smaller if they don't just throw me off the roof.I heard a cry, and the mob in the square was already very excited. The first to appear on the roof were a burly man in khaki overalls, a skinny man in one of the dark black suits that have been trending lately in Tianlun Five, and a horribly fat woman wielding what looked like a giant wrench. and a short man in the green uniform of the Renaissance Star Self-Defense Force. Holding the door with my left hand, I inserted Greystone's universal microchip card into the engine starter.The battery chimed, the switch starter kicked in, and I closed my eyes, hoping the coils were light-charged and self-repairing. Fist on the roof of the car, palms on the plexiglass cover next to my face, and despite all my strength to hold on to the door, the door was ripped open.The cry of the crowd in the distance was like the background sound of the ocean; the scream of the crowd on the roof was like the cry of some huge seagulls. The lift-off mechanism is activated, vibrating and bouncing dust and pigeon droppings onto the mob on the roof, and I slide my hand into the master controller, back and then to the right, and feel the Vicon beaut lift up, shake it ，落下，又再升空。 我彎向右邊，飛過廣場上空，只稍微注意到擋風玻璃上的警報器在響，還有個人吊在打開的車門下。我低飛而過，看到荊魔神教的祭司雷諾茲閃避而群眾四散奔逃，禁不住笑了起來。然後我拉高飛過噴水池，急轉向左。 我那位尖叫著的乘客不肯放開車門，可是車門脫落了，所以結果還是一樣。我注意到原來是那個肥女，緊接著她和車門就落入八公尺下的水裡，將水花濺在雷諾茲和那群人身上。我讓電磁車爬升得更高，聽著黑市貨的升空裝置因這個決定而發出呻吟。 當地交通管控單位來的憤怒指責和儀錶板上的警示聲響成一團，車子在警方命令下有些不穩，但是我再用那張卡片碰了下感應器，讓總控制桿重新控制了行車，我飛過那個城市最舊也最貧窮的一區，盡量貼近屋頂，繞過尖塔和鐘樓，始終低於警方的雷達偵測。在一般的日子裡，交通管控單位的員警，早就騎乘他們的個人航空器和浮掠機將我攔截下來或包圍住了，可是由底下街道上的人群，以及在公眾傳送門總站所見到的動亂情況看來，今天好像並不是一般的日子。 這架維肯美景開始警告我，它在空中的時間只剩幾秒鐘了，我感到右側的升空裝置突然猛地傾斜，我極力運用控制桿和油門，讓這架破老爺車在一條運河和一棟滿是油墨污漬的大建築物之間的小停車場上著陸。那個地方離雷諾茲煽動暴民的廣場至少有十公里，所以我覺得在地面上要安全得多其實在這一刻也沒多少選擇。 火星四散，金屬撕裂，後部儀錶板上的部分零件，尾翼前方的儀錶板全都解體，而我降落在地，離俯瞰運河的那堵牆只有兩公尺遠。我盡可能淡漠地離開那輛維肯電磁車。 街上仍然擠滿了人群在這裡還沒有形成暴民而運河裡則塞滿了小船，因此我漫步走進最靠近的一棟公共建築，以避人耳目。那個地方部分是博物館，部分是圖書館，還有部分是檔案室；我一眼就愛上了這個地方和那裡的氣味，因為這裡有成千上萬的書本，很多還真的很老舊，再沒有比舊書的氣味更好的了。 我正在前廳裡逛著，查看書目，不知道在這裡是不是找得到賽爾門．布萊彌的著作時，一位矮小瘦削、穿了套過時的羊毛和塑性纖維料西裝的男子走到我面前說：先生，我們好久不曾有這個榮幸蒙您光臨了！ 我點了點頭，非常確定我從來沒見過這個人，也沒有到過這個地方。 三年了吧，是不是？至少有三年了。哎呀，時間過得真快。那小個子男人的聲音輕得如同耳語是那種大半輩子都生活在圖書館裡的人悄聲說話的語調但是卻聽得出話聲中掩不住的激動興奮之情，我相信您想直接去看那套收藏品，他說著站在一邊，好像要讓我過去。 對，我說著微鞠一躬，不過您先請。 那瘦小男子我幾乎可以確定他是個檔案管理員似乎很樂於在前面帶路。他一路閒聊著最新的收藏，最近的評鑑，還有哪些萬星網的學者到訪，我們經過一個又一個藏書的房間，好多層高聳的書架，像由書排放成的走廊，在大房間裡，我們的腳步聲在遠處的書牆上激起回聲。一路走來，我沒有見到其他人。 我們經過一條鋪了油氈、裝了鐵欄杆的過道，底下是一大潭書，深藍色的保護力場保護著各種卷軸、羊皮紙、皺了的地圖、發光的手稿，還有古老的漫畫，以免受到大氣的傷害。那位管理員打開了一道下層的門，比一般氣密式入口的門要厚得多。我們進入了一個既小又沒有窗戶的房間，裡面厚厚的簾幕半遮著一個個放著古代卷帙的凹室。一方聖遷時期以前的波斯地毯上放著一張皮椅，一個玻璃盒裡有一些零散的真空壓護的羊皮紙。 您準備近期內出版嗎？瘦小男子問道。 What?我由玻璃盒那邊轉回身來。哦不會。I said. 那位管理員捏起小小的拳頭頂住下巴。請您原諒我這麼說，先生，可是如果您不出版的話，實在是太可惜了。就算是在這些年裡我們所做的幾次討論中，大家都覺得您是萬星網裡研究濟慈的學者中如果不是最好的一位，至少也是最好的幾位之一。他嘆了口氣，退後一步。請原諒我這麼說，先生。 我盯著他看。沒有關係，我說，突然之間明白了他認為我是誰，以及為什麼會到這裡來。 您一定希望不受打擾吧，先生。 如果你不在意的話。 管置微微翰了一躬，退出房間，關上厚重的門，只留一條小縫。唯一的光線來皇藏在天花板上的三盞小燈：正適合用來閱讀，卻又不至於亮得破壞了這個小房間如教堂般的氣氛。唯一的聲音只有那位管理員漸行漸遠的腳步聲。我走到玻璃盒前，兩手扶在盒邊上，小心地不弄污了玻璃。 第一個濟慈再生模控人強尼在他於萬星網中生活的少數幾年裡，顯然常常來到這裡。現在我想起來布瑯．拉蜜亞曾經提起過文藝復興星上的某間圖書館。在早期調查她委託人兼愛人死因時，她曾和他一起到過這裡。後來，等他真正被殺，只剩下在她史隆迴路中記錄的人格後，她也到過這裡，她曾經告訴過其他人，第一個模控人每天來看那兩首詩，希望能了解他自己存在和死亡的原因所在。 那兩首詩的原稿就在這個玻璃盒子裡，第一首我猜想是一首叫長日已盡，其一切之甜美已盡開頭的甜蜜情詩。第二首比較好些，不過也沾染了那樣一個過分浪漫而病態的時代中那種浪漫的病態： ∮ 這隻活生生的手，此刻溫暖而足能 有力緊握，倘若不幸發寒， 且深陷棺木的冰冷靜默， 勢將糾纏你的白日且凍結你多夢的夜晚。 直到你願使自己心中鮮血枯涸 讓赤色生命再次流竄我的血脈， 而你才能良心安穩看哪這隻手 我舉之向你。 ⑤ ⑤此為濟慈詩作，譯文採用上冊之中譯。 Brown.拉蜜亞把這當作是她那已故愛人，她那未曾出生的孩子的父親，所留給她的私人信息。我凝視那張羊皮紙，把臉湊近去，呼出的氣息讓玻璃蒙上霧氣。 那不是一則超越時空給布瑯的訊息，甚至當時也不是寫給我唯一深愛的芬妮。我瞪著那些已褪色的字跡筆畫十分小心地勾畫，即使已有時間和語文進化的鴻溝，字跡依然相當清晰回憶起當一八一九年十二月寫成的時候，把這一段小詩潦草地記在我剛開始的一首諷萌性的童話<帽子與鈴鐺>還是<嫉妒>中的一頁上。真是一段可怕的胡言亂語，難怪在我覺得消遣夠了之後，就丟掉了。 這片段的<這隻活生生的手>是那種突然觸動某一根心弦的詩意節奏，讓人想白紙黑字地寫下來。而這一段本身又是早先一些不滿意的句子的回響我相信應該是我第二次想敘述太陽神海柏利昂之毀滅的詩中第十八行吧。我還記得第一個版本這個版本仍然毫無疑問地會在每次把我的文字骸骨像某些不經意間成為木乃伊的聖人遺骸一般，放在文學祭壇下水泥和玻璃櫃中展示的時候再印出來那第一個版本是這樣的： ∮ 現世之人誰能說： 你本非詩人不該訴說你的夢？ 因任一非泥塑木雕之人， 均有憧憬，且欲發言，如他愛過， 並受細心的母語養育。 此刻意圖習練的夢境 為詩人或狂熱之徒所屬， 將於我手之溫暖筆觸入棺時分曉。⑥ ⑥此段引自濟慈長詩，譯文採用上冊之中譯。 我喜歡我潦草記下的那一段，那種纏祟和被纏祟的感覺，想用來取代我溫暖的手那一句，儘管那樣就得略加修改，加上十四行到那已經嫌長了的第一篇開頭一段 我滿跚後退，坐在椅子上，低下頭來將臉深埋雙手中，我在哭，莫名所以，無法停止。 在淚水不再流下之後很久，我還一直坐在那裡想著、回憶著。有一回，大概是幾個鐘頭之後，我聽到有腳步聲從遠處走來，很謹慎地停在那小房間門口，然後又走遠去。 我發現在所有小凹室裡的所有書籍，全都是像我以前所寫的約翰．濟慈，身高五呎的作品約翰．濟慈，那個有肺病的詩人，他只要求在他墓碑上不要寫名字，而只刻上： ╬ 此地長眠一人 其姓名寫於水中 我沒有站起來看那些書，讀那些書。我不必再看。 獨自在寂靜無聲、充滿皮革和舊書香味的圖書館裡，獨自在我的自我與非我的避難所裡，我閉上了眼睛。我沒有睡覺。I had a dream.