cb.imajica1-第21章

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he　felt　now　was　fueled　more　by　the　power　of　the　deceit　worked　upon　him　than　by　the　sex　of　the　deceiver。
　〃What　have　you　done　to　me？〃　was　all　he　could　say。　〃What　have　you　done？〃
　Pie　'oh'　pah　stood　his　ground；　knowing　perhaps　that　his　nakedness　was　his　best　defense。
　〃I　wanted　to　heal　you；〃　he　said。　Though　it　trembled；　there　was　music　in　his　voice。
　〃You　put　some　drug　in　me。〃
　〃No！〃　Pie　said。
　〃Don't　give　me　no　I　thought　you　were　Judith！　You　let　me　think　you　were　Judith！〃　He　looked　down　at　his　hands；　then　up　at　the　hard；　lean　body　in　front　of　him。　〃I　felt　her；　not　you。〃　Again；　the　same　plaint。　〃What　have　you　done　to　me？〃
　〃I　gave　you　what　you　wanted；〃　Pie　said。
　Gentle　had　no　retort　to　this。　In　its　way；　it　was　the　truth。　Scowling；　he　sniffed　his　palms；　thinking　there　might　be　traces　of　some　drug　in　his　sweat。　But　there　was　only　the　stench　of　sex　on　him；　of　the　heat　of　the　bed　behind　him。
　〃You'll　sleep　it　off；〃　Pie　said。
　〃Get　the　fuck　out　of　here；〃　Gentle　replied。　〃And　if　you　go　anywhere　near　Jude　again；　I　swear　。　。　。　I　swear　。　。　。　I'll　take　you　apart。〃
　〃You're　obsessed　with　her；　aren't　you？〃
　〃None　of　your　fucking　business。〃
　〃It'll　do　you　harm。〃
　〃Shut　up。〃
　〃It　will；　I'm　telling　you。〃
　〃I　told　you；〃　Gentle　yelled；　〃shut　the　fuck　up！〃
　〃She　doesn't　belong　to　you；〃　came　the　reply。
　The　words　ignited　new　fury　in　Gentle。　He　reached　for　Pie　and　took　him　by　the　throat。　The　bundle　of　clothes　dropped　from　the　assassin's　arm；　leaving　him　naked。　But　he　put　up　no　defense；　he　simply　raised　his　hands　and　laid　them　lightly　on　Gentle's　shoulders。　The　gesture　only　infuriated　Gentle　further。　He　let　out　a　stream　of　invective；　but　the　placid　face　before　him　took　both　spittle　and　spleen　without　flinching。　Gentle　shook　him；　digging　his　thumbs　into　the　man's　throat　to　stop　his　windpipe。　Still　he　neither　resisted　nor　succumbed；　but　stood　in　front　of　his　attacker　like　a　saint　awaiting　martyrdom。
　Finally；　breathless　with　rage　and　exertion；　Gentle　let　go　his　hold　and　threw　Pie　back；　stepping　away　from　the　creature　with　a　glimmer　of　superstition　in　his　eyes。　Why　hadn't　the　fellow　fought　back　or　fallen？　Anything　but　this　sickening　passivity。
　〃Get　out；〃　Gentle　told　him。
　Pie　still　stood　his　ground；　watching　him　with　forgiving　eyes。
　〃Will　you　get　out？〃　Gentle　said　again；　more　softly；　and　this　time　the　martyr　replied。
　〃If　you　wish。〃
　〃I　wish。〃
　He　watched　Pie　'oh'　pah　stoop　to　pick　up　the　scattered　clothes。　Tomorrow；　this　would　all　e　clear　in　his　head；　he　thought。　He'd　have　shat　this　delirium　out　of　his　system；　and　these　events…Jude；　the　chase；　his　near　rape　at　the　hands　of　the　assassin…would　be　a　tale　to　tell　Klein　and　Clem　and　Taylor　when　he　got　back　to　London。　They'd　be　entertained。　Aware　now　that　he　was　mo〃re　naked　than　the　other　man；　he　turned　to　the　bed　and　dragged　a　sheet　off　it　to　cover　himself　with。
　There　was　a　strange　moment　then；　when　he　knew　the　bastard　was　still　in　the　room；　still　watching　him；　and　all　he　could　do　was　wait　for　him　to　leave。　Strange　because　it　reminded　him　of　other　bedroom　partings：　sheets　tangled；　sweat　cooling；　confusion　and　self…reproach　keeping　glances　at　bay。　He　waited；　and　waited；　and　finally　heard　the　door　close。　Even　then　he　didn't　turn；　but　listened　to　the　room　to　be　certain　there　was　only　one　breath　in　it：　his　own。　When　he　finally　looked　back　and　saw　that　Pie　'oh'　pah　had　gone；　he　pulled　the　sheet　up　around　him　like　a　toga；　concealing　himself　from　the　absence　in　the　room；　which　stared　back　at　him　too　much　like　a　reflection　for　his　peace　of　mind。　Then　he　locked　the　suite　door　and　stumbled　back　to　bed；　listening　to　his　drugged　head　whine　like　the　empty　telephone　line。
　
　
　9
　
　Oscar　Esmond　Godolphin　always　recited　a　little　prayer　in　praise　of　democracy　when；　after　one　of　his　trips　to　the　Dominions；　he　stepped　back　onto　English　soil。　Extraordinary　as　those　visits　were…and　as　warmly　weled　as　he　found　himself　in　the　diverse　Kesparates　of　Yzordderrex…the　city…state　was　an　autocracy　of　the　most　extreme　kind；　its　excesses　dwarfing　the　repressions　of　the　country　he'd　been　born　in。　Especially　of　late。　Even　his　great　friend　and　business　partner　in　the　Second　Dominion；　Hebbert　Nuits…St…Georges；　called　Peccable　by　those　who　knew　him　well；　a　merchant　who　had　made　substantial　profit　from　the　superstitious　and　the　woebegone　in　the　Second　Dominion；　regularly　remarked　that　the　order　of　Yzordderrex　was　growing　less　stable　by　the　day　and　he　would　soon　take　his　family　out　of　the　city；　indeed　out　of　the　Dominion　entirely；　and　find　a　new　home　where　he　would　not　have　to　smell　burning　bodies　when　he　opened　his　windows　in　the　morning。　So　far；　it　was　only　talk。　Godolphin　knew　Peccable　well　enough　to　be　certain　that　until　he'd　exhausted　his　supply　of　idols；　relics；　and　jujus　from　the　Fifth　and　could　make　no　more　profit；　he'd　stay　put。　And　given　that　it　was　Godolphin　himself　who　supplied　these　items…most　were　simply　terrestrial　trivia；　revered　in　the　Dominions　because　of　their　place　of　origin…　and　given　that　he　would　not　cease　to　do　so　as　long　as　the　fever　of　collection　was　upon　him　and　he　could　exchange　such　items　for　artifacts　from　the　Imajica；　Peccable's　business　would　flourish。　It　was　a　trade　in　talismans；　and　neither　man　was　likely　to　tire　of　it　soon。
　Nor　did　Godolphin　tire　of　being　an　Englishman　in　that　most　un…English　of　cities。　He　was　instantly　recognizable　in　the　small　but　influential　circle　he　kept。　A　large　man　in　every　way；　he　was　tall　and　big…bellied：　bellicose　when　fondest；　hearty　when　not。　At　fifty…two　he　had　long　ago　found　his　style　and　was　more　than　fortable　with　it。　True；　he　concealed　his　second　and　third　chins　beneath　a　gray…brown　beard　that　only　got　an　efficient　trimming　at　the　hands　of　Peccable's　eldest　daughter；　Hoi…Polloi。　True；　he　attempted　to　look　a　little　more　learned　by　wearing　silver…rimmed　spectacles　that　were　dwarfed　by　his　large　face　but　were；　he　thought；　all　the　more　pedagoguish　because　they　didn't　flatter。　But　these　were　little　deceits。　They　helped　to　make　him　unmistakable；　which　he　liked。　He　wore　his　thinning　hair　short　and　his　collars　long；　preferring　for　dress　a　clash　of　tweeds　and　a　striped　shirt；　always　a　tie；　invariably　a　waistcoat。　All　in　all；　a　difficult　sight　to　ignore；　which　suited　him　fine。　Nothing　was　more　likely　to　bring　a　smile　to　his　face　than　being　told　he　was　talked　about。　It　was　usually　with　affection。
　There　was　no　smile　on　his　face　now；　however；　as　he　stepped　out　of　the　site　of　the　Reconciliation…known　euphemistically　as　the　Retreat…to　find　Dowd　sitting　perched　on　a　shooting　stick　a　few　yards　from　the　door。　It　was　early　afternoon　but　the　sun　was　already　low。in　the　sky；　the　air　as　chilly　as　Dowd's　wele。　It　was　almost　enough　to　make　him　turn　around　and　go　back　to　Yzordderrex；　revolution　or　no。
　〃Why　do　I　think　you　haven't　e　here　with　sparkling　news？〃　he　said。
　Dowd　rose　with　his　usual　theatricality。　〃I'm　afraid　you're　absolutely　correct；〃　he　said。
　〃Let　me　guess：　the　government　fell！　The　house　burned　down。〃　His　face　dropped。　〃Not　my　brother？〃　he　said。　〃Not　Charlie？〃　He　tried　to　read　Dowd's　face。　〃What：　dead？　A　massive　coronary。　When　was　the　funeral？〃
　〃No；　he's　alive。　But　the　problem　lies　with　him。〃
　〃Always　has。　Always　has。　Will　you　fetch　my　goods　and　chattels　out　of　the　folly？　We'll　talk　as　we　walk。　Go　on　in；　will　you？　There's　nothing　there　that's　going　to　bite。〃
　Dowd　had　stayed　out　of　the　Retreat　all　the　time　he'd　waited　for　Godolphin　（a　wearisome　three　days）；　even　though　it　would　have　given　him　some　measure　of　protection　against　the　bitter　cold。　Not　that　his　system　was　susceptible　to　such　disforts；　but　he　fancied　himself　an　empathic　soul；　and　his　time　on　Earth　had　taught　him　to　feel　cold　as　an　intellectual　concept；　if　not　a　physical　one；　and　he　might　have　wished　to　take　shelter。　Anywhere　other　than　the　Retreat。　Not　only　had　many　esoterics　died　there　（and　he　didn't　enjoy　the　proximity　of　death　unless　he'd　been　its　bringer）；　but　the　Retreat　was　a　passing　place　between　the　Fifth　Dominion　and　the　other　four；　including；　of　course；　the　home　from　which　he　was　in　permanent　exile。　To　be　so　close　to　the　door　through　which　his　home　lay；　and　be　prevented　by　the　conjurations　of　his　first　keeper；　Joshua　Godolphin；　from　opening