Chapter 46 Turtle with one wooden leg - 8

In June 1976, Tudor Angel died of a heart attack while driving down the streets of Santa Monica.This Romanian-born lawyer in Los Angeles is a royal minister in charge of various businesses.However, the most handled matters are related to gold mines. Nine days later, on June 28, Shirley Taalas died after struggling with cancer for more than a decade. David Setiniaz heard the news from Wang. "when?" "Three hours ago." Leiber's voice was a little strange, and it took a while for Setiniaz to understand why. "Did you talk to me on the plane?" "Yes. We left Rio two hours ago. Going straight to Boston. Are you going there too?"

Perhaps it can be said that nothing saddened Setiniaz more than the death of Shirley Taras.He had known Shirley Talas for over thirty years.For more than thirty years he had loved her like a mother.Her death plunged David into deep grief, though not a surprise.Doctors had deemed her hopeless four years earlier. Unexpectedly, this time Wang himself went there in person. "At that time," Setiniaz later recalled, "I had not seen him for a year and three months. By special instructions from Reber, I had Marny Oaks forward all documents that required his review." .In the document, I stated several times that I was facing financial difficulties due to the increasing amount of money he was withdrawing. Three days later, the document was returned to me by an anonymous courier belonging to Jethro, and it stated that : 'Top secret. Hand it over to the recipient.' A side note said: 'I know the situation. I hope to do my best.' I remember, at that time, I imagined him like this: naked, with a green collar on his forehead Snakeskin headband, hair down to the shoulders, in the depths of the dangerous jungle, among the uncivilized Indians, but eating God knows what, while being able to command me by remote control. For example, he gave me The other attached slips of the bank said: 'Union Bank of Zagreb, account number 583452LM67, did not transfer the sum of US$112,600. Why? RMK.'.'I have requested from Tehran's Iran Qishawaz company withdrew all funds, but not yet fully. Please do so. RMK.'

". . . and now I've learned that he finally showed up, solely for the purpose of attending a funeral in a small rural cemetery in the middle of nowhere in Maine, where he was with a friend who had just lost his wife..." Georges Taras certainly remembered. Shirley died in the hospital around nine o'clock in the morning.In a sense, this is a relief.In the last month and a half of her life, the doctor gave her daily injections of morphine, with increasing doses, and she was unconscious almost all day long.If she was weighed, she probably weighed only 30 kilograms in the days before her death.This scene aroused strange associations in Taras, and it seemed to him that the ghosts of Dachau and Mauthausen concentration camps appeared again before his eyes.

When it was all over, he did not weep bitterly, nor let the slightest sorrow show.He has nothing to do with tears.His idea was very clear, and he had made up his mind long ago: no one would be notified.He knew all too well what would happen when he told people: his former Harvard students and colleagues would rush there, as would Reilly's countless friends in the publishing world.In her lifetime reviews she alternately enthusiastically supported and vehemently criticized famous writers who also felt compelled to come to Maine to pay their respects. There was only one person he hesitated to meet: David Setiniaz.Shirley treated David like their son.In the hospital, he even picked up the receiver to make a call to New York, but changed his mind again. His heart was heavy, and a strong sense of loneliness surrounded him tightly. "God, what's going on? I've known for months that she was going to die, and now she's dead." Still, he could laugh at himself.Even now, he has a sarcastic attitude about life, and he can't imagine talking about things like this on the phone. "Taras, you're going to burst into tears all at once, so don't make such a fool of yourself."

Perhaps driven by a reaction, he immediately set about doing the concrete things that needed to be done.He chartered a plane and ordered a hearse to meet it at Bangor and go through all the formalities needed to transport a body from one state to another.He arrived in Maine at 2 p.m. and spent another two hours making arrangements for the burial the next day.At five o'clock, he returned to the deserted home.Standing on the headland between Pinobscot Bay and Blue Hill Bay, the house seemed more desolate than ever.While cooking, he was a little shaken.He wandered aimlessly through the empty house, and for twenty minutes or so it was unbearable, the pills in the bathroom medicine cabinet swirling in his head, and he couldn't get them out of it.In the end, this kind of thinking prevailed: Mrs. Kavanaugh will deliver muffins three times a week, and tomorrow is the day to deliver muffins. If he finds out that he has passed away, he will choose the best muffins as usual. Wednesday (why muffins are always the best on Wednesday, I don't know), the good woman must faint.Tara was keenly aware of how ridiculous this situation must be.

He walks out of the house. Adolfo and Benito, two stupid cormorants, perch in the same place--on a dilapidated boat.Nothing in life is more humorless and pathetic than them.They come back every year and spend the summer here.Maybe they are not Adolfo and Benito in the forties, but they must be direct descendants of those two cormorants.Could it be that the descendants of other cormorants have such a stupid look? "I must admit," he heard a slow, serene voice say, "I've never seen such a stupid-looking bird." "I've promised to lease this place to them for ninety-nine years," Taras added, seemingly unsurprised. "As long as a tacit agreement is reached, the lease term can be extended."

He felt that there was someone else besides this Reber Michel Klimrod.He turned around to find David standing a few meters away.At this time, he couldn't restrain himself anymore, and really started crying. The next day, after the burial that only the three of them attended, he said that he wanted to live in the Red House (Note: Another name for the mortuary in the West) for a day or two. "I can't find a better word than to call it the Red House. Still, it could be said that I was an intruder who imposed himself upon you." "I warn you, I'm going to snore in my sleep," Taras said.

"Never mind a jaguar my friends keep. Besides, your beard isn't that long." David went back to New York.Reber and Taras took a long walk around the house.Although it is already June, the temperature is still quite low. Although the rain has not yet fallen, it is obvious that it is only a few minutes in the morning and evening.Leiber, who was only wearing a cotton round-neck white sweater, couldn't help shivering. "Is it cold?" "It's because the weather is going to change, and it will be fine in a while." "Could it be malaria?" "We Samatari never get malaria."

That being said, they went back inside and lit the fireplace.They talked about Montaigne, Steyron, Baking, Naipaul, painting and so on.However, it was clear to Taras that although Reb talked about everything, he said nothing about what really cared about him. The word "Amazonia" seemed to have been completely wiped from his memory. At half past three, Mrs. Kavanaugh drove over freshly baked muffins.She made tea for them and said they were crazy for staying inside in such fine weather; it might have been a bit damp (it was pouring rain outside) but it reminded her of her native Ireland .She offered to stay and cook dinner for them, but Reb declined, saying he would take care of everything.So the Irish woman took her leave.

"Take care of everything! People sound like I'm a hundred years old!" "You are seventy-five." Except for the light coming in from the window, the only light in the scarlet study was the fire in the fireplace.The dim light made Leib even more skinny and haggard.Taras thought: He had hardly changed since the first meeting in Mauthausen.He will not change until he dies.Cher 2 used to say that he was the most charming and least human person in the world, maybe he came from another planet. He asked loudly: "She just passed away, how did you already know, it's Jethro again?"

"It doesn't matter. Unless you really want to talk about it." "You're right, it doesn't matter." "Let me tell you about the book you're writing. "Tell me about Amazonia." "I didn't do it for that." "I know why you came here. In this case, it's a coincidence that I was thinking..." "Tsk tsk tsk." Leiber interrupted him with a smile. He put down his glass, stood up, went to pick up his cloth bag, and took out three or four bottles of wine from it. "Do you really like drinking that kind of Chinese tea?" "I haven't touched vodka in at least fifteen years." "I've had it about three times in my life." They attack the first bottle.Reber's words came, and this time he talked about himself, about his secret past, about his trip to Sicily with Yifu Lazarus and Dove shooting Langan and Derge in front of him Rott thing.He also said that on another occasion, when he stood with Dorff near the Malabata lighthouse in Tangier, Dorff shot seagulls and urged him to kill for revenge.Reber was definitely not drunk, because he only drank a little from the bottle of Georgian vodka, so it wasn't alcohol that caused him to look back. Taras saw it clearly: "He has never been able to talk openly about love and friendship; he has always been so ashamed when he came upon these subjects that it embarrassed other people. But I am sure that now he is telling me what he is telling me. It was to express his friendship to me." "Don't get me drunk," said Taras, who had already drunk most of the bottle himself. "I'm from Georgia, which means I'm pretty much a Russian, at least a little Soviet. I'm American, Caucasian, and Ukrainian. Even though your vodka is Georgian Goods, and won't..." "The wine was brought back from Tbilisi by Nessim." "It tastes great." "I don't want to bother you with my story." "Don't be silly, Mr. Klimrod. You know very well how much your story appeals to me and how I love to hear it. The man who tried to kill three or four hundred thousand Nazis at Nuremberg What is your name?" "Bunim Anerevich. He is dead. One day he finally found that there was no place to live in the Eastern countries, so he went to Israel. He was killed in the Six Day War Dead. He had changed his name by then, of course." Night has fallen.Liu Hou at ten o'clock, Leiber said he was hungry.Taras got up and took a few steps before he came to the conclusion that his house, probably including the rocky promontory on which it stood by the Atlantic Ocean, was tilted.So he decided it would be better to sit still in the armchair, thinking that he would be served by one of the richest and richest footmen in the world.The rain has stopped, the wind has died down, and there is almost no movement on the sea. You have to hold your breath to hear the deep breathing that resembles a dog when it is sleeping soundly. Reber came back from the kitchen with his tonka bacon omelet.They ate omelets and drank the second bottle of vodka that Taras had already attacked. "Still want a story, George?" "Make up a few if necessary." "I was making it up, George. What do you think I was doing?" Then he told of the rivalry with the enemy in Austria, the mutual pursuit from Salzburg to Death Mountain, the visit to Simon Wiesenthal, the death of Dolf Lazarus, and the encounter with The passage of people with four passports with different names. "He is Karl Adolf Eichmann, can you imagine?" Taras fell asleep.When he woke up, it was already the afternoon of the second day, and he felt his tongue was limp.The room was so quiet that he thought Reb had left.He hurried downstairs.Reber was found speaking Portuguese on the phone. "I made some coffee," Reber said, covering the microphone with one hand, "it's not cold yet, and it's in the kitchen." He took turns using English, German, Spanish, and French to continue calling one after another. Outside, the sky has cleared, the sun is sunny, and there is no cloud in the sky.They went out and walked along the seashore. "Did I lie in bed by myself yesterday, or did you drag me into bed?" "Arguably a bit of both." Adolfo and Benito perched in the same place, still looking so stupid. "Reber," Taras said abruptly, "I don't want to be an outsider." His eyes met those gray ones, and Taras felt again the shrinking feeling he had learned in Mauthausen thirty-one years ago.He continued: "You're not that old yet. You know exactly what I mean; sooner or later, passive or active, you're always going to fight the battle... Only one thing I'm not sure about: Do you take the initiative to attack, or rise up and fight. I am more inclined to the former method." Leiber bent down, picked up a large pebble, and threw it with his hands.The stone landed accurately on the water between the two cormorants, and they pretended not to care about it. "Are you sure these are two live birds?" "Of course it is. Live as I do." Reber took off his shoes and waded into the water barefoot, not caring about getting his pants wet.He shook his head. "I haven't made up my mind yet," he said. "For the time being, the authorities in Brasilia will not interfere with me. Caracas and Bogota will ignore me." "It won't last long, and you know that." silence. Leiber took off his T-shirt and slowly submerged his body in the water. Only his head was exposed, his eyes were wide open, and he looked a bit like a drowning person.Taras walked to his favorite rock and sat down. "Don't shut me out, Reb, I beg you, don't do this." Reber was gone, diving underwater for what seemed like an endless two minutes before he emerged.He swam back to the reef, stripped naked, wrung out his clothes and put them on again. "You've only been there once, George." "It's too hot for me. Besides, I don't want you to hire me as a lumberjack." It was silent again.Reber tied the laces of his sneakers, but he stopped, lost in thought. "I told you just now that I haven't made up my mind. It's true. I can live as I am." "How many companies did you use this time?" "One hundred and eleven families." "Is there any apparent connection between them?" "No." "Is there any chance that someone will come out one day and reveal the truth of the matter and point out that you are the only owner of all these companies?" "I don't think so." Taras thought for a long time, and finally said: "You're right. You can 'live as you are,' as you say. At most, some one of your hundred and eleven companies will be dissatisfied in the future. But I think every company Anyway, you have your own team of lawyers, each of them is smarter than the other. And I seem to remember that some of your people have joined the cabinet. Isn’t one of them the personal adviser of the President of Brazil?" Reber smiled and said, "Yes." "So the only real danger," Taalas said, "is a Cuban-style revolution in Brazil, Venezuela, or Colombia. It seems unlikely, at least not for the next twenty years. And, even if The kingdom of heaven is red, and a compromise can always be reached through negotiation. Is your relationship with the Kremlin still that good?" "yes." "Paul, Nessim, that art-collecting American, and another Frenchman with a strong accent?" "Yes, and others." Taras could still laugh out loud. "My God, Reber, you're a multinational corporation alone. What am I talking about, more than a multinational corporation? You are several multinational corporations yourself. Maybe you can buy General Motors, or It's Exxon. Maybe it's hard to buy both. Am I right?" "I never thought about it." They started walking again, walking side by side toward Taras' house. "Reb, it's very simple: it's up to you. If you remain silent and anonymous, nothing will go wrong, nothing serious will go wrong." They go into the house. "But I know it won't be like this for long," said Taras. "Won't?" "No. You said yourself 'I haven't made up my mind.' It shows you're thinking about it. I think you'll do it. I think you'll start the fight. You've created a nation , and outside its borders, almost no one knows of its existence. One day, you will no longer be silent. I believe that when that day comes, I can help you. I have been thinking a lot about this lately , I think you too." Reber smiled. "Come with me," Taras said. He walked towards the study.Books and notes were piled up there randomly, so it wouldn't frighten people like Setiniaz. "Last night," said Taras. "Before you got me so disgracefully drunk, you asked me a question that I haven't answered. You want me to talk about this book I'm writing..." He picked up a folder and opened it.There is only one piece of paper inside. "It's all here, Reb, and I doubt it will ever be published. It's done, though. It's all in there. I can read it if you want to hear it." "I can't wait," Reber replied, with another smirk on his face. "First of all, the title of the book, "On the Predictability of the Legislature of Nations," by Georges Taras. Below is the text. The first chapter. The other chapters do not actually exist. The first chapter is the only one, plus the following : The theory of national legal system is a ridiculous and absurd concept.It has no legal basis.Every nation is built on the historical fact that at a certain period, a tribe had a larger stone axe than the other tribes adjacent to it, and that tribe was able to overwhelm the other tribes.The conclusion is clear: there is no legal basis for the existence of any existing state. "That's all, Reber. I'm quite satisfied with the conclusions I've come to." "Reber," Taras said. "I can teach you lessons, I can..." "I'd like to read some books on this subject." "Introduction to International Law by Sir Gerald Fitzmaurice; International Society as a Society of Law by Mosler; Principles of Public International Law by Paul Giggenheim, Cavalieri's Principles of the Law of Peace, Redsloeb's Treaties of Public International Law, the various publications of the Hague Society of International Law, the American Journal of International Law; the Journal of World Trade Law; One might add the works of Westlake, Wetton, Reynoldt, and Vinvarez's masterpiece "International Law of the United States" ... and also Tunkin the Russian, Jimenez of Montevideo The book by De Arechaga, Fordros and Sima has just come out and I don't have it, but I'll get one... As for O'Connell, Kelsen, von der Hayter, Schwarzenberg, Brownlee...and others won't mention it..." "Take a breath and talk." "Even if you read at the speed of light, Reb, it would probably take you years to read these books." Taras reached out and touched a stack of books, and the stack of books immediately fell down. "Many of the books I just mentioned are here. Of course, not all of them are here. You must have someone you can trust, Reb." "It's you." "Even me. Me and all the jurists you can get, of course all nationalities. I can even get a rosy-cheeked real Russian who isn't even a dissident. He An important figure with strong Kremlin ties, though often living in London and Finland. He will join the team and keep his secrets, on my honor, Taras." "What will the team do?" "Do what you want it to do, Reber: Prove that the nation you created can and must survive, according to your vision, and that it has a right to survive." The gray eyes opened wider. "George, do you think I'm crazy enough to be like this?" "I think you have a lot more madness than that, Reb." Taras thought: "At the end of the day, there is something about Diego Haas in me too. The Argentine and I were created and born into this world, as if to push Reb Michelle C. Limrod to complete his mission..." However, in the next few seconds, he thought again: it was himself and Diego.Fools of Haas, they hold themselves too high. He continued calmly, "Reb, I know I'm seventy-five years old. I don't ask you to take pity on me. You might think I'm alone now, or you might feel sorry for me. Mercy to me for the camaraderie I have. I really have the ability to organize this team and have everything ready to make a difference when you make up your mind to act." There was a silence. Then Reber said to him: "I'd love to go there. At least once more. You've only been there once in all, and that was in 1964." "1965." "'64," Reber said. "November 20, 1964. Want a bet?" "My God, no," said Taras. "I know your memory all too well. Maybe you can tell what I was wearing that day." "White suit, green tie, green handkerchief, and a Panama hat. Yava and his sons think that straw hat is queer, and they still laugh about it. George, I hope you come next year, Maybe in February, when there is less rain.” "I will. Of course, if I'm still in this world." "If you die, I will never forgive you." The two were silent for a while.Leiber's gaze became deeper. "Can you really come up with a convincing argument?" "A state is an entity having a territory, a population, and a government. A state is also sovereign and independent, and thus not subordinate to another state or any other entity, but is directly bound by international law. This question alone has sufficed jurisprudence for generations The family has filed a lawsuit for five hundred years." "I may not be able to wait that long." "Reber, even the term 'international law' itself has no solid basis. It was first used by a man named Bentham about two hundred years ago. Bentham must have invented it in the bout of alcoholism. Before him it didn't exist. Before him it was jus inter gentes, the Latin term itself also descended from another lunatic in the sixteenth century. His name was Victoria. 17 Around 2000, the Frenchman Daguesau translated the Latin jus inter gentes into the French driot entrs les nations, as long as anyone who knows a little bit of Latin can see that this translation is unreasonable and downright stupid. Gesso did this to suit the needs of his master and of France, which was then undergoing a period of imperialist expansion. And some Anglo-Saxon jurists, eager to justify the conquest of other nation-states, learned from their reputation and forced Sing a tune with him. So, when dear old Kant . . . " "George." "...in his 1795 "On Perpetual Peace" when 'nations' changed to 'nation', international law..." "George!" silence. "I can talk like this for a hundred and forty-three hours," said Taras. "Maybe more than that." "Territory, population, government." "You own the territory and you obviously own the population. You can nominate Yava as prime minister or president, whatever name you or he likes. No one can challenge his right as a pre-occupier except going back to before the formation of the Bering Strait, The Indians in America were still Asians then. As for the territory, you will have to tell the world that those one hundred and eleven companies are nothing more than your own creation. This will make all your careers (not only It's the end of Amazonia) to the world, Reb, you must have thought about this before me, maybe that's why you hesitated. Nothing can be kept secret anymore. The whole world will know to hit a Reb Michel Klimrod. It's no wonder people didn't drop their buttocks in those days." Reber turned his back on him. "The price will be high, Reb. You're going to have to come out from behind the scenes. It's suicidal in a sense. All these years of secrecy will go to waste.  …" Reber neither spoke nor moved. "Reb, the most incredible thing is that I am sure you will do this, no matter what the cost. It's not because I persuaded you. I never thought that I would affect your ability in the slightest. How long have you had this idea?" "Years, in a sense," said Reber calmly, turning to face Taras. "Do you really want to take on all the tasks?" "This is the strongest desire I have in this world." Taras replied with a determined tone.Then he added: "But it's not because I'm alone. I want to take on this job, Leiber, because I truly believe, and I believe soberly, that I'm the right person for the job. I I know you a little bit..." "Quite understanding," Reber said with a smile. "This is the proof." "I can do it, Reb. I've got a few people in mind. Five or six guys will do it first. I'd rather wait until we've run out of brains. We'll need some more datamen. I know one." Admirable woman, she can organize a team for us. We must master all existing materials on international law, and consult them word for word. Leib, from ancient times to the present, there has never been a legal law in the world. State. Jurisprudence does not exist at all. It's a big panic. Ubi societas, ibi jus (where there is society, there is law). All this nonsense is pure nonsense. We law eaters paint a vacuum into five six and claim that the walls have been built. When we sing the king's praises like D'Aguesso, it seems that we are believed. No, there is a copy of Hall's book just behind your left shoulder. You take it Come down, turn to page one hundred and twenty-seven, I believe there is such a passage on this page: A country can acquire territory through various means, such as: taking unilateral action on its own initiative; through occupation; ceded by another country, group or individual; And the area expands... "I recited it from memory. Reber, did you hear this line: 'Initiative to take unilateral action...' What is this other than theft, plunder, and conquest by force? Likewise, the so-called rule of law, sovereignty, and sanctity The sinister farce of violating rights is nothing more than coloring used to paint wars, domination by power, unequal treaties, or treaties concluded as a result of balancing ). The result of the crazy confrontation between Britain and France gave birth to Belgium, and Britain and France themselves were also constantly invading Shaoguo. African countries are actually pieces of land that have been arbitrarily cut. Fortuitous coincidence. What about South America, Central America, or even North America? What would have happened if the descendants of the Spaniards who conquered Mexico had not been defeated after the battle at Fort Alamo by the descendants of the English who colonized America? If not What is the state of the Tsarist Russian Empire and the Soviet Union today? Those Russians extended their claws from the Baltic Sea and Ukraine to Japan, Mongolia, Afghanistan and China, not to mention the Kazakhs that they happily wiped out thirty years ago people, not to mention the dark-skinned Cubans who are currently serving as Gurkha soldiers and Senegalese soldiers for them. The Turks conquered the vast steppes of Central Asia and once drank horses in the Mediterranean Sea. Let me ask you, where did the Turks get such a sacred and inviolable right? How long does it take for the Turks to become indigenous? I met a lot of people in Mexico, Algeria, and Vietnam who were outraged that they became colonies. However, Mexico The Gonzales of Spain were themselves immigrants directly from Castile or Aragon in Spain. Likewise, the Mahomets of Tizi Ouzou came there from the Arabian The Berbers there converted. And the Berbers themselves have a little bit of Visigothic or some kind of blood that only Allah knows. Ruan Moumou also got carried away in the Mekong Delta and made the Cham people who lived there earlier Stepping underfoot with other Khmers. I could go on and on. What sacrosanct rights? Ridiculous! There are thousands of examples of this.” "Nen jetez p1us, la cour est pleine, (note: that's enough, stop talking)" Reber said in French. "Reber, there is no theory, and there will be no theory. There is no code. Let me give you an example. Just this year, they are going to refuse to recognize the Transkei Xhosa in the eastern part of the province), and not without good reason, since it is indeed doubtful whether Transkei, surrounded by South Africa, enjoyed real independence. However, the USSR had three votes in the United Nations, the USSR, the Ukraine, Belarus, who has disputed this fact? And who dares to say that Belarus is an independent country?" "Finished?" "Having said all that, and there are countless examples, this koan is defensible anyway, Reb. As long as you find a forum to practice seppuku" or at least sacrifice anonymity, it's tantamount to sloughing you off. Skin over skin. Reb!" "Ok?" "Can you make one or more atomic bombs?" "can." "You can really do it?" "can." "Have you considered it?" "Of course I won't do this, but I have considered it as an intellectual game, purely abstract thinking." "As you must know, there is another solution. Declare war on Brazil, Colombia, Venezuela; as long as you have a way to make the old men of the world's two biggest thieves--I mean the United States and the Soviet Union-- find it profitable to Swords are on the verge..." Another Katanga Army defeated the rebels led by Tshombe and reunited)” "This kind of comparison is not good for you. The so-called Katanga country safeguards the vested interests of the colonizers, but you are different. You have overcome obstacles and savages to start a business. In addition, you are many times better than Tshombe. However, anyway, this matter Neither will you." "Won't." "That's what I'm worried about," said Taras in a tone that could be described as sarcasm. "What a pity? Because the best way to build a new, undisputed, so-called 'legitimate' country is to fight a decent war, with a mix of heart-pounding carnage and spectacular war." For a spectacular bloodbath.” Taras saw Leiber pick up the cloth bag and prepare to leave.Reber's going away did not bother him so much as it would have been the night before.Now he thought: "Reber is about to agree, he has already agreed, and I'm going to fight..." Leiber said softly, "Of course you know what kind of materials I want you to prepare." "These materials must talk about the freedom of development and entrepreneurship, the individual is higher than the country, and the current system is incomplete without exception; a new model must be presented; to stink power is axiomism, and to expose all 'isms' .There are nearly 200 countries in this world, of which less than 20 countries are nearly free. And "nearly free" does not exist, just like a woman cannot be said to be "nearly pregnant". There are other things eh, Reb?" "That's all for now." Reb walked toward the door.Taras knew that Diego Haas must be waiting somewhere, although he could not see anyone, there was absolutely no doubt about it. "I got to work right away," he said. “不，请不要谈经费问题。有你这些年给我的钱，我可以聘用六百位高水平的法学家。我存钱的银行还以为我是毒品贩子呢。我租得起凡尔赛宫开学术讨论会。雷伯，你还没有问我，当那一天到来时，你的呼声被人听见的希望究竟有多大……” “答案我知道，你也知道。” “零，”塔拉斯说：“绝对是零，而且是无法挽回的。不过，有哪一个唐·吉柯德向诺大的风车发动过进攻呢？”