按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ut by his lack of prehension of what had just happened。 In plain terms； a child in his care had been slaughtered by her molester； and he'd failed to prevent that slaughter。 But he'd been wandering in the Dominions too long to be content with simple assessments。 There was more here than stymied lust and sudden death； Words had been uttered more appropriate to pulpit than gutter。 Hadn't he himself called Huzzah his angel？ Hadn't he seen her grow seraphic at the end； knowing she was about to die and accepting that fate？ And hadn't he in his turn been dubbed a deficient savior…and proved that ac… cusation true by failing to deliver her？ These were high… flown words； but he badly needed to believe them apt； not so that he could indulge messianic fantasies； but so that the grief welling in him might be softened by the hope that there was a higher purpose here； which in the fullness of time he'd e to know and understand。
A burst of fire threw light down the alleyway； and Gentle's shadow fell across something twitching in the filth。 It took him a moment to prehend what he was seeing； but when he did he loosed a shout。 Huzzah had not quite gone。 Small scraps of her skin and sinew； dropped when the Nullianac's claim upon her was cut short； moved here in the rot。 None were recognizable； indeed； had they not been moving in the folds of her bloodied clothes he'd not even have known them as her flesh。 He reached down to touch them； tears stinging his eyes； but before his fingers could make contact； what little life the scraps had owned went out。
He rose raging； rose in horror at the filth beneath his feet； and the dead； empty houses that channeled it； and in disgust at himself； for surviving when his angel had not。 Turning his gaze on the nearest wall； he drew breath and put not one hand but two against his lips； intending to do what little he could to bury these remains。
But rage and revulsion were fueling his pneuma； and when it went from him it brought down not one wall but several； passing through the teetering houses like a bullet through a pack of cards。 Shards of pulverized stone flew as the houses toppled； the collapse of one initiating the fall of the next； the dust cloud growing in scale as each house added to its sum。
He started up the alleyway in pursuit of the pneuma； fearing that his disgust had given it more purpose than he'd intended。 It was heading towards Lickerish Street； where the crowds were still milling； oblivious to its approach。 They were not wandering that street innocent of its corruption； of course； but neither did their presence there deserve death。 He wished he could draw the breath as he exhaled it； call the pneuma back into himself。 But it had its head； and all he could do was run after it as it brought down house after house； hoping it would spend its power before it reached the crowd。
He could see the lights of Lickerish Street through the hail of demolition。 He picked up his pace； to try and outrun the pneuma； and was a little ahead of it when he set eyes on the throng itself； thicker than ever。 Some had interrupted their window…shopping to watch the spectacle of destruction。 He saw their gawking faces； their little smiles； their shaking heads： saw they didn't prehend for an instant what was ing their way。 Knowing any attempt to warn them verbally would be lost in the furor； he raced to the end of the alleyway and flung himself into their midst； intending to scatter them； but his antics only drew a larger audience； who were in turn intrigued by the alleyway's capitulation。 One or two had grasped their jeopardy now； their expressions of curiosity bee looks of fear； finally； too late； their unease spread to the rest； and a general retreat began。
The pneuma was too quick； however。 It broke through the last of the walls in a devastating shower of rock shards and splinters； striking the crowd at its densest place。 Had Hapexamendios； in a fit of cleansing ire； delivered a judgment on Lickerish Street He could scarcely have scoured it better。 What had seconds before been a crowd of puzzled sightseers was blood and bone in a heartbeat。
Though he stood in the midst of this devastation； Gentle remained unharmed。 He was able to watch his terrible weapon at work； its power apparently undecayed despite the fact that it had demolished a string of houses。 Nor； having cut a swath through the crowd； was it following the trajectory set at his lips。 It had found flesh and clearly intended to busy itself in the midst of living stuff until there was none left to undo。
He was appalled at the prospect。 This hadn't been his intention； or anything like it。 There seemed to be only one option available to him； and that he instantly took： he stood in the pneuma's path。 He'd used the power in his lungs many times now…first against the Nullianac's brother in Vanaeph； then twice in the mountains； and finally on the island； when they were making their escape from Vigor N'ashap's asylum…but in all that time he'd only had the vaguest impression of its appearance。 Was it like a fire…breather's belch； or like a bullet made of will and air； nearly invisible until it did its deed？
Perhaps it had been the latter once； but now； as he set himself in its path； he saw that it had gathered dust and blood along its route； and from those… essential elements it had made itself a likeness of its maker。 It was his face that was ing at him； albeit roughly sculpted： his brow； his eyes； his open mouth； expelling the very breath it had begun with。 It didn't slow as it approached its maker； but struck Gentle's chest the way it had struck so many before him。 He felt the blow but was not felled by it。 Instead the power； knowing its source； discharged itself through his system； running to his fingertips and coursing across his scalp。 Its shock was e and gone in a moment； and he was left standing in the middle of the devastation with his arms spread wide and the dust falling around him。
Silence followed。 Distantly； he could hear the wounded sobbing； and half…demolished walls going to rubble； but he was encircled by a hush that was almost reverential。 Somebody dropped to his knees nearby； to tend； he thought； to one of the wounded。 Then he heard the hallelujahs the man was uttering and saw his hands reaching up towards him。 Another of the crowd followed suit； and then another； as though this scene of their deliverance was a sign they'd been waiting for and a long…suppressed flood of devotion was breaking from each of their hearts。
Sickened； Gentle turned his gaze away from their grateful faces； up the dusty length of Lickerish Street。 He had only one ambition now： to find Pie and take fort from this insanity in the mystif s arms。 He broke from his ring of devotees and started up the street； ignoring their clinging hands and cries of adoration。 He wanted to berate them for their naivete； but what good would that do？ Any pronouncement he made now； however self…deprecatory； would probably be taken as the jotting for some gospel。 Instead he kept his silence and picked his way over the stones and corpses； his head down； The hosannas followed him； but he didn't once acknowledge them； knowing even as he went that his reluctance might seem like divine humility； but unable to escape the trap circumstance had set。
The wasteland at the head of the street was as daunting as ever； but he started across it not caring what fires might e。 Its terrors were nothing beside the memory of Huz…zah's scrap； twitching in the muck； or the hallelujahs he could still hear behind him； raised in ignorance of the fact that he…the savior of Lickerish Street…was also its destroyer； but no less tempting for that。
34
Every trace of the joy that the vast halls of the chianculi had once seen…no clowns or ponies； but circuses such as any showman in the Fifth would have wept to own…had gone。 The echoing halls had bee places of mourning and of judgment。 Today； the accused was the mystif Pie 'oh' pah； its accuser one of the few lawyers in Yzordderrex the Autarch's purges had left alive； an asthmatic and pinched individual called Thes 'reh' ot。 He had an audience of two for his prosecution…Pie 'oh' pah； and the judge…but he delivered his litany of crimes as if the hall were full to the rafters。 The mystif was guilty enough to warrant a dozen executions； he said。 It was at very least a traitor and coward； but probably also an informant and a spy。 Worse； perhaps； it had abandoned this Dominion for another without the consent of its family or its teachers； denying its people the benefit of its rarity。 Had it forgotten in its arrogance that its condition was sacred； and that to prostitute itself in another world （the Fifth； of all places； a mire of unmiracu…lous souls！） was not only a sin upon itself but upon its species？ It had gone from this place clean and dared to return debauched and corrupted； bringing a creature of the Fifth with it and then freely confessing that said creature was its husband。
Pie had expected to be met with some recriminations upon return…the memories of Eurhetemec were long； and they clung strongly to tradition as the only contact they had with the First Dominion…but the vehemence of this catalogue was still astonishing。 The judge； Culus