Chapter 4 4. Drilling

Once Lyra was gone, Will found the pay phone and dialed the law firm number on the letter in his hand. "Hello? I'm looking for Mr. Perkins." "who are you?" "It's about John Perry. I'm his son." "Please wait……" A minute later, a man's voice said, "Hi. This is Alan Perkins. Who are you?" "William Perry. Please forgive me for calling. This is about my father, Mr. John Perry. You send money from my father to my mother's bank account every three months." "yes……" "So, I want to know where my father is, please tell me, is he alive or dead?"

"How old are you, William?" "Twelve. I want to know what happened to him." "Yes... did your mother... did she... did she know you called me?" Will thought it over carefully. "Don't know," he said, "but she's not feeling well right now. She can't tell me a lot, but I want to know." "Well, I see. Where are you now? Are you at home?" "No, I'm at... I'm at Oxford." "Only you?" "yes." "You mean your mother is not well?" "yes." "Is she in the hospital or something?"

"Almost, can you tell me?" "Okay, I can tell you a few things, but not a lot, and not right now, I think it's better not to say this on the phone. I have a client in five minutes, and you can be in my office at two-thirty come?" "No," Will said.That was too dangerous, and the lawyer might have heard that he was wanted by the police.He thought quickly, then went on, "I'm going to catch a bus to Nottingham and I don't want to miss that. But you can tell me on the phone what I want to know, can't you? I want to know Is my father still alive, and if so, where can I find him. You can tell me that, can't you?"

"It's not that simple. I won't give out my client's personal information unless he asks to. Besides, I need to prove your identity." "Yes, I understand. But can you just tell me if he's still alive?" "Well... that's not classified. Unfortunately, I can't tell you either, because I don't know." "what?" "The money came from a family estate. He left instructions for me to send the money until he said stop. I haven't heard from him since that day. At the end of the day he was... well, I think He's missing. That's why I can't answer your question."

"Missing? Just... disappeared?" "That's actually the official record. Listen, why don't you come to my office—" "I can't. I'm going to Nottingham." "Then, write to me, or have your mother write. I'll tell you what I can do. But you have to understand that there's only so much I can do on the phone." "Yes, I think so, that's all right, but can you tell me where he disappeared?" "As I said, that was the official record, and there were a few reports in the papers at the time. Did you know he was an explorer?"

"My mother told me some, yes." "Well, he took an expedition and disappeared. About ten years ago, maybe earlier." "Where?" "Far north, I think Alaska, you can look it up in the public library. Why don't you—" But just then, Will ran out of money, and he didn't bring any more change.He heard the beeping dial tone in his ears, put down the phone, and looked around. The thing he wants most is to call his mom.He had to stop himself from dialing Mrs. Cooper's number, because if he heard his mother's voice, it would be very difficult for him not to go back to her, which would put them both in danger, but he could send her a message. postcard.

He chose a postcard with a view of the city and wrote, "Dear Mom, I'm all well and I'll see you again soon. I hope you're well and I love you. Will." He wrote the address, Stamped, held tightly for a moment, then dropped it in the letterbox. It was mid-morning, and now he was on a high street, with the bus weaving through the crowds. He's starting to realize that he's exposed too much because it's not the weekend and a kid his age is supposed to be at school.Where can he go? It didn't take him long to figure out how to hide.Will can hide easily, he's good at it, and he's even proud of his craft.Like Serafina Pekkala on the boat, he just has to make himself part of the background.

So now, knowing what kind of situation he was in, he went to a stationery store and bought a ballpoint pen, pad and a clipboard.Schools often assign elementary school students some homework similar to shop surveys. If he looks like he is doing similar things, he will not be seen as doing nothing. Then he started wandering, pretending to be taking notes, his eyes searching the public library. In the meantime, Lyra was looking for a quiet place to read the alethiometer.In her own Oxford, there are more than a dozen places within a five-minute walk, but this Oxford has differences that startle her. Some places are very similar, and some places are completely foreign: Why did they draw those yellow lines on the ground?What were those little white squares on the sidewalk (in her world, people had never heard of chewing gum)?What do the red and green lights on the road mean?That's harder to read than an alethiometer.

But here came the gates of St. John's College, and it was here that once she and Roger climbed after dark and planted fireworks in the flower beds.And the old stone at the corner of Carter Street - Simon Parslow had carved his initials SP on it, they were identical!She saw him engrave it with her own eyes! Someone in this world with the same initials must have stood here idly and done the same thing. Maybe there is a Simon Parslow in this world too. Maybe there is a Lyra in this world too. A chill ran down her spine, and Pantalaimon, transformed into a mouse, was shaking in her pocket, as was her own body.Without further imagination, there are already too many mysteries here.

Another difference between this Oxford and her Oxford is that here every sidewalk is bustling with pedestrians, and every building has many people coming and going.All sorts of people: ladies in men's attire, Africans, even a group of Tatars obediently following their leader, well-dressed and carrying small black leather bags.At first she looked at them in horror, because they had no elves, and in her world they would be seen as ghosts, or worse. But (and this was the strangest thing) they all looked alive and well, and they walked around merrily, and they looked entirely human, and Lyra had to admit that they might have been human, except that, like Will, their The spirit is inside the body.

Lyra walked around for about an hour, looking at this plausible Oxford.She felt hungry, so she bought a bar of chocolate with her twenty quid, and the shopkeeper looked at her strangely, though she made it clear. Maybe because he was from India and couldn't understand her accent.She used her change to buy an apple at the bazaar, which was more like a real Oxford.She walked towards the park, and when she got there she found before her a large building, a real Oxford-style building, but one that did not exist in her own world, though it seemed to fit well with its surroundings.She sat outside on the grass and started eating, admiring the building. She found it to be a museum, with its doors open, and inside she saw stuffed taxidermy and fossilized skeletons, and boxes of ore, like the Royal Geographic Museum she and Mrs Coulter had visited in London Same.There was a passage behind the vast steel and glass hall that led to another part of the museum, and since it was hardly visited, she went in and looked around.In her consciousness, the most important thing is the alethiometer.But just in the second room, she found herself surrounded by something very familiar: window displays of clothes worn in the Arctic, like her own fur coat, and sleds, walrus ivory carvings, seal hunting Harpoons, and a myriad of assorted trophies, souvenirs, and oddities, and tools and weapons of all kinds.They weren't limited to the ones she saw coming from the Arctic, they came from all over the world. Oh, it was strange, those reindeer fur coats were exactly the same as the ones she was wearing, but they had attached the wrong harness to that sleigh.But there is a photo of some Samoyed [Samoyed, living in northern Siberia, Russia] hunters, two of whom look exactly alike, and they are the ones who snatched Leila and sold her to Berfan add.Look!That's them!Even the place where the rope frayed and then re-knotted was exactly the same.Lyra knew this well, for she had been strapped to that sledge for hours, in agony... What were these mysteries?Is there really only one world and all this is just a dream? Then she came across something that reminded her of the alethiometer again.Inside an old glass box with a black wooden frame were several human heads, several of which had holes in them: some in the front, some in the side, and some in the top.The skull in the middle has two holes.The card is printed with long, thin handwriting: this step is called drilling.The card also said the holes had been drilled while the head's owner was still alive, as the edges of the holes had healed smooth.But there was one hole that wasn't like that, that was pierced by a brass arrowhead, and that arrowhead is still there, the edge of the hole is rough and broken, so you can see the difference. That's what the northern Tatars do.Stanislaus Grumman did the same to himself, according to the fellow at Jordan College who knew him.Lyra took a quick look around, saw no one was around, and produced the alethiometer. She concentrated her thoughts on the head in the middle and asked: Whose head is this?Why are they drilling holes in it? She stood so engrossed in the gray light filtering through the glass roof that she didn't even notice that anyone was looking at her. A dignified-looking man in his sixties, wearing a tailored linen suit and holding a Panama hat, he stood upstairs in the showroom, looking down over a steel railing. His gray hair was combed neatly back from his forehead, and his brow was tanned but smooth and barely wrinkled.His dark eyes were large, with long lashes, and an intense gaze.Almost every minute, the tip of his dark tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth to lick his lips.The snowy white handkerchief in his breast pocket smelled rich of cologne, like plants grown in a greenhouse, so strong that you could almost smell their rotting roots. He had noticed Lyra for some time.She walked downstairs, and he followed her upstairs.As she stood before the heads, he watched her closely, at everything about her: her messy dirty hair, the bruises on her face, her new clothes, her bare neck bent over the alethiometer, And her bare legs. He drew his handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiped his brow, and came downstairs. Lyra was studying these novelties with great concentration.These heads are unimaginably old, and the card in the window simply states the Bronze Age, but the alethiometer, which never lies, shows that the owner of this head lived 33,254 years ago , he had been a wizard, and the holes were drilled to let the gods into his mind.Then the alethiometer, as it sometimes does, answered a question Lyra hadn't asked, casually, saying that there was more dust around the pierced skulls than the one pierced by the arrows. What exactly does that mean?Lyra came back to reality from the concentration of reading the alethiometer and found that she was no longer alone.A scented old man in light clothes was looking into a nearby window, and he reminded her of someone, but she couldn't say who. He realized she was looking at him, so he looked up at her with a small smile on his face. "Are you looking at these pierced heads?" he asked. "How weird that people do this on themselves." "Hmm," she said deadpan. "You know what? People still do it now." "Yes," she said. "Hippies, you know, those people. You're too young to remember hippies, actually. They say that's better than drugs." Laila put the alethiometer in her backpack, and she wondered how to get out.She hadn't asked the all-important question yet, but now the old man was talking to her.He looked good and smelled good too.He moved closer, his hand touching hers as he leaned over from the window. "Surprised you, don't you? No narcotics, no disinfectants, maybe only stone tools. They must be pretty good, right?I don't think I've seen you here before, I come here quite often.May I have your name? " "Lizzie," she answered calmly. "Hi, Lizzie, Lizzie, I'm Charles. Do you go to school in Oxford?" She didn't know how to answer. "No," she said. "Just for fun? Oh, then you have picked a good place. What are you most interested in?" Of all the people she'd met in quite some time, this one baffled her quite a bit.On the one hand, he was amiable and neatly dressed, but on the other hand, Pantalaimon was pulling her in his pocket, reminding her to be more careful, because he also vaguely remembered something.She also sensed a smell of feces and decay from somewhere, rather than the smell itself.She thought of Eofur Laknizon's palace, where the air was fragrant and the ground was filthy. "I'm most interested?" she replied, "oh, all sorts of things, really. I just got interested after seeing the head here, I don't think anyone would like to do that, it's horrible gone." "No, I don't like it myself. But I can assure you that it does happen. I can take you to a man who did it," he said.He seemed so friendly, so helpful, she almost said yes.But at this moment, he stuck out the tip of his dark tongue and licked it wet, as fast as a snake, so she shook her head. "I have to go," she said, "thank you for your kindness, but I'm not going. Besides, I'm going now because I'm going to see someone, my friend." She added, "I'm Be with him now." "Yes, of course," he said kindly. "It was a pleasure talking to you. Goodbye, Lizzie." "Goodbye," she said. "By the way, here's my name and address, in case you need it," he said, handing over a business card, "in case you want to know more about this sort of thing." "Thank you." She said nonchalantly.She put the business card in the small back pocket of her backpack and left, feeling him staring at her as she left. As soon as she was outside the museum, she turned and walked towards the park, which she knew was where cricket and other sports were played.She found a quiet place under a tree and started checking the alethiometer again. This time she asked where to find an academician who understood dust.The answer she got was simple: it beckoned her to a room in the tall square building behind her.In fact, the answer came so straightforwardly that Lyra was sure the alethiometer had work to say.She began to feel that it had emotions like a human being, and she knew when it wanted to tell her more. It is now, and what it says is: You have to care about this boy.Your job is to help him find his father, put your mind on that. She blinked, she was stunned.The idea that Will had come down from the sky to help her and now she had come all the way here to help him surprised her. But the alethiometer was not finished yet, its pointer started to turn again, and what she read was: Don't lie to the academician. She wrapped the alethiometer in velvet and tucked it away in her backpack.She stood there looking around, looking for the building where the academician she was looking for was located.She walked there, feeling awkward, but unafraid. Will had no trouble finding the library, where the staff, fully convinced he was doing a research assignment given in geography at school, helped him find a catalog of all the Times papers from the year he was born, his father being Missing that year.Will sat down to browse, and indeed there were a few references to John Perry, who was associated with an archaeological expedition. He found that the content of each monthly newspaper was stored in a microfilm, and he put them into the projector one by one, browsed and looked for them one by one, and read the relevant reports with intense concentration.The first one tells of an expedition that set out for northern Alaska.The expedition, funded by the University of Oxford's Archaeological Society, to examine an area where it was hoped to find evidence of early human habitation, was accompanied by a professional explorer, John Perry, who was once a member of the Royal Navy. The second report, six weeks later, briefly reported that the expedition had arrived at the North American Arctic Research Station in Noatak, Alaska. A third report came two months after that, saying that the station had sent a signal, but had received no reply, and they speculated that John Perry and his crew might be missing. That one report was followed by a series of articles describing the futile search team, the search and rescue plane over the Bering Sea, the archaeological society's reaction to it, the interviews with relatives... His heart was pounding, Because there's a picture of a mother holding a baby, and that's him. The reporter reported it in the style of a standard tragic story: the wife waited for the news in tears and pain. There are very few facts recorded in the article, which disappointed Will.There's a passage that briefly states that John Perry had a successful career in the Royal Navy and that he left the Navy to organize geographic and scientific expeditions, and that's all. There's no other mention of it in the catalog, so Will gets up from his microfilm reading booth.There must be more information about it somewhere else, but where should he go next?If he takes too long to search, he will be tracked down... He handed the microfilm back and asked the library staff, "Do you know the address of the Archaeological Society?" "I can find out...which school are you from?" "St. Peter's School," Will replied. "Not at Oxford?" "No, it's in Hampshire [Hampshire, a county in the south of England]. Our class organized a field trip to human settlements, which is a method of environmental studies." "Oh, I see. What are you looking for? . . . Archeology? . . . That's it." Will copied down the address and phone number, and since he admitted that he would be fine without knowing Oxford, he asked how to get there, which wasn't far away.Will thanked the librarian and set off. In that building, Lyra saw a wide desk at the foot of the stairs, and a doorman stood behind it. "Where are you going?" he said. It felt a little like home again, and she felt that Pantalaimon in her pocket liked it too. "I'm going to take a message to someone on the second floor," she said. "Who?" "Dr. Lister," she said. "Dr. Lister is on the third floor. If you have anything for him, you can leave it here and I'll tell him." "I know, he wants it now, and that's why he asked me to come. In fact, it's not the same thing, but something I want to tell him personally." He watched her carefully, but he was no match for Lyra's prosaic submissive skills if she wanted to.At last he nodded his assent, and went back to digging through his paper. Of course, the alethiometer did not tell Laila the specific name of the person. She saw Dr. Lister's name from the mailbox grid on the wall behind him.Because if you pretend to know someone, it's easier for them to let you in.In some ways Lyra knew his world better than Will did. On the second floor, Laila saw a long corridor with a door leading to an empty lecture hall and another door leading to a small room where two academicians were standing in front of the blackboard discussing something.The walls of these rooms and corridors are bare and simple. Laila thinks the place is very simple, without the academic atmosphere and style of Oxford. Of course, the brick walls are painted evenly, and there are thick wooden doors and shiny steel. Handrails, these are very valuable, but also show the strangeness of this world in another way. She quickly found the door the alethiometer had told her about.The sign on the door read: Dark Matter Research Group, and beneath that someone had scrawled the letters RIP, and someone had penciled in "Director: Lazarus." Lyra didn't care. She knocked on the door and a lady's voice said, "Come in." It was a small room filled with crumbling books and materials, numbers and equations were written on a whiteboard on the wall, and there was a Chinese-looking pattern behind the door.Through an open door, Laila could see another room containing what appeared to be complex electronics on display. Lyra was a little surprised to find that the academician she was looking for was a woman, but the alethiometer didn't say it was a man, it was a strange world after all.The woman sat in front of a machine that displayed numbers and graphs on a glass screen, and in front of it was an ivory tray lined with dirty little squares with all the letters of the alphabet.The woman tapped one of the small squares, and the screen went blank. "Who are you?" she asked. Lyra closed the door behind her.She hadn't forgotten what the alethiometer had told her, and she was trying to get over that she wasn't what she used to be, but she was telling the truth. "Lila Silverton," she answered, "what's your name?" The lady blinked, and Lyra guessed she was in her late forties, maybe a little older than Mrs. Coulter, with short black hair, rosy cheeks, a white coat over a green shirt, and a pair of out-of-this-world clothes. Blue canvas trousers worn by many. After hearing Lila's question, she stroked her hair and said, "Oh, you are the second accident today. I'm Dr. Mary Malone. What's the matter?" "I want you to tell me about the dust," Lyra said, looking around to make sure no one else was there. "I know you know about it, and I can prove it. You must tell me." "Dust? What are you talking about?" "Maybe you don't call it that. It's an elementary particle. In my world, academicians call it a Rusakov particle, but they usually call it dust. They don't appear easily, but they come from the universe and stick On people. But not children, often on adults. I only found it today - I saw some old skulls drilled in the museum down the road, like the Tartars drilled. Copper When was the Machine Age?" The lady stared at her with wide eyes. "Bronze Age? Jesus, I don't know, maybe five thousand years ago," she said. "Oh, so they made a mistake when they wrote the label. The skull with the two holes is 33,000 years old." She stopped because Dr. Malone looked as if he was about to faint.She was pale, with one hand on her chest and the other on the arm of the chair, her mouth open. Lyra stood there bewildered, waiting for her to return to normal. "Who are you?" asked the lady at last. "Lila Silverton—" "No, where are you from? Who are you? How do you know these things?" Lyra sighed wearily, forgetting that Academicians were good at circling things, that it was so hard to tell the truth to them when it was easier for them to understand lies. "I'm from another world," she began, "and in that world there's such an Oxford, but it's different, and that's where I come from, and—" "Wait, wait, wait. Where are you from?" "From another place," Lyra replied more carefully, "not here." "Oh, another place," said the lady. "I see, oh, I think I see." "I'm here to find dust," Lyra explained, "because in my world, people in the church, yes, they're afraid of dust because they think it's original sin. So it's very important. My father... No," she said impatiently, stamping her foot, "that's not what I meant to say, I was all wrong." Dr. Malone looked at Laila's desperate, distressed face, her clenched fists, the bruise on her cheek, and her legs, and said, "Oh, calm down, kid." She stopped and rubbed her eyes, which were red with fatigue. "Why should I listen to you?" she continued. "I must be crazy. The truth is, it's the only place in the world that's going to get the answers you want, and they're going to shut it down. What you said, Your dust, like some kind of substance we've been working on, the head in the museum you mentioned was a revelation because... oh no, it's too much. I'm so tired, trust me, I'm Want to hear from you, but not right now. Didn't I say they were closing this place down?I've spent a week preparing a proposal for the Foundation, but we're still hopeless..." She gave a big yawn. "What was the first accident you had today?" Lyra asked. "Oh, yes, I don't think it's too surprising that someone I've been trusting withdrew his support for a grant application." She yawned again. "I'm going to make some coffee," she said, "or I'll fall asleep. Would you like some too?" She filled the electric kettle with water, spooned instant coffee into two cups, and Laila Then stare at the Chinese pattern behind the door. "What's that?" she asked. "That's the Chinese I Ching pattern. Do you know what that is? Do you have this in your world?" Laila squinted at her in case she was mocking her.She said: "Some things in my world are the same as here, some things are different, that's all. I don't know everything about my world, maybe they have this experience too." "I'm sorry," Dr. Malone said, "yes, they might have." "What is dark matter?" Lyra asked. "Is that what the pattern says?" Dr. Malone sat down again, hooking out another chair with his foot for Lyra to sit on. She said: "Dark matter is what my research group has been looking for. No one knows what it is. There is more of this matter in the universe than our eyes can see. The key is here, we can see the light. , like stars and galaxies, but for them to be related to each other, not to disperse, there needs to be more of this matter - to make gravity work, you understand? But no one can detect it. There are many different things about it research projects, and this is one of them." Lyra was paying attention, or at least the lady was serious about it. "What do you think it is?" she asked. "Oh, we think it's—" she was about to say, when the pot boiled, and she got up to pour her coffee as she spoke, "We think it's an elementary particle. Like anything we've found It's all different, but the particles are hard to detect... Where did you go to school? Did you study physics?" Lyra felt Pantalaimon squeeze her hand, warning her to be careful.But that was okay, the alethiometer told her to tell the truth, but she also knew the consequences of telling all the truth, so she had to be careful not to lie outright. "Yes," she said, "I know a little bit, but not about dark matter." "Well, we're getting ready to detect this nearly undetectable matter from the interference of other particle collisions. Generally, they put the detectors very deep underground, and all we do is set up an electromagnetic field around the detectors, shielding what we don't need, and only accepting what we need, and then we amplify this signal and Connect it to the computer. " She offered a cup of coffee, no sugar or milk, but she found some gingerbread in a drawer, and Lyra eagerly ate one. "We've found a particle that fits the bill," Dr. Malone continued. "We think it fits the bill, but it's very strange... Why am I telling you this? I shouldn't have said it, it's neither published nor No basis, not even a written report. I'm really out of my mind this afternoon. "So..." she went on, and she yawned so long again that Laila almost thought it wouldn't stop. "Our particles are really weird little devils, we call them shadow particles, shadows. You know what made me almost fall off my chair just now? That's when you mentioned the head in the museum. Because we One of the guys in the group was an amateur archaeologist and one day he found something we couldn't believe but we couldn't ignore because it fit all the incredible theories about these shadows. You know what? They're conscious, yes, shadows Conscious particles. Have you heard this nonsense? No wonder our funding isn't continuing." She sipped her coffee, and Laila took in every word she said like a water-starved flower. "Yes," continued Dr. Malone, "they know we're here, and they respond. What's even more incredible: you can't see them unless you're expecting them. Unless your mind is in a certain state, and you You also have to be confident, relaxed, you have to be able to—what does it say..." Reaching into a pile of papers on her desk and taking out a scrap of paper, in green handwriting, she read: "'A man can rest in uncertainty, mystery, doubt without rushing Investigate facts and reasons [quoted from a letter by the English poet John Keats to his brother]...'You have to get into that state. That's what the poet Keats said, by the way. So you just Need to put yourself into the right state, and then you look at the cave [Cave, in this book is a nickname for the computer of the Dark Matter Research Group, the allegory is quoted from Plato's fable "The Shadow on the Wall of the Cave"] -" "Cave?" Lyra asked. "Oh, sorry, it's the computer. We call it the cave. "Shadow on the wall in the cave" (quoted from the fable of the ancient Greek philosopher Plato), Plato said. It was told to me by our archaeologist, he is really a complete No. But he's off to Geneva for a job interview and I don't think he'll be back for a few days... Where did I say that? Oh cave, yes. Once you're connected to it, if you think , the shadow will react. There is no doubt that the shadow is like a flock of birds, flying towards your thoughts..." "Where are those heads?" "I was about to come to it when Oliver Payne - he, my colleague - was free one day and made a few experiments with the cave. Very strange, it was not at all what the physicists expected He had a piece of ivory, just a small piece, and there was no shadow on it, and it didn't respond. But a carved ivory chess piece did. A large piece of wood didn't, but a wooden ruler did, Wooden statues have more... I'm talking about elementary particles, for God's sake. Insignificant little things, they know what these are, as long as they are related to human labor, they are surrounded by shadows..." And O Oliver—Dr. Oliver—took some fossil skulls from a friend of his at the museum, and tested them to see how far back that influence went, and it ended thirty or forty thousand years ago, when Before there were no shadows, after that there are many.Apparently that's when humans first appeared.I mean, you know, our ancient ancestors, but they weren't that different from us, really..." "That's the dust," Lyra said firmly. "That's it." "But, look, if you want people to take this seriously, you can't say that in a grant application, it doesn't make sense. It can't exist, it can't, if it's not impossible, it's irrelevant , and if it is neither, it can only be embarrassing." "I want to see the cave," Lyra said. She stood up. Dr. Malone ran his hands through her hair and blinked hard to get a better look into her tired eyes. "Well, why not?" she said, "tomorrow we may not have caves. Come on." She led Laila into another room, a large one filled with electronics. “就是它，就在那儿。”她指着一个发出灰色亮光、一片空白的屏幕说道，“电线后面就是探测器，要看到阴影，你得先连上电极，就像测脑电波一样。” “我想试试。”莱拉说。 “你不会看见任何东西的，再说，我也累了。那相当复杂。” “求求你！我知道我在做什么！” “你知道？现在？我希望我知道，但我并不知道，天哪。这是一个昂贵的、高难度的科学试验。你别指望它像弹球机一样，你到这儿来，付了钱，它就跳一下……你究竟从哪儿来？难道你不该待在学校里吗？你怎么找到这儿的？“她又揉了揉眼睛，好像刚刚睡醒。 莱拉颤抖着，说出真相，她心想。“我用它找到了进来的路。”说着她拿出了真理仪。 “那到底是什么？指南针？” 莱拉让她拿起它。马隆博士感觉到它的沉重，她的眼睛瞪大了。 “天哪，这是金子做的。到底从哪儿——” “我想它和你的山洞作用一样，那就是我要寻找的东西。如果我能答对一个问题，”莱拉急切地说，“你知道答案而我不知道的问题，那么我能试试你的山洞吗？” “什么，我们现在要算命吗？这是什么东西？” “求求你了！就问我一个问题！” 马隆博士耸了耸肩。“哦，那好吧，”她说，“告诉我……告诉我，我从事这项工作以前是干什么的。” 莱拉急切地从她手中拿过真理仪，转动旋钮，她能感觉到在指针指向正确的图形前，她的意识已经先到达了那儿。她感到那根长指针扭动着做出了回应。它开始在表盘上旋转，她的目光跟随着它，注视着，推测着，从那长长的一串解释看到事实的所在。 然后她眨眨眼，吐了一口气，从暂时的恍惚中回到了现实。 “你以前是个修女。”她说，“我不该那么猜，修女应该永远待在修道院里，但你不再相信教会，他们就让你离开了。这可不像我的世界，一点都不像。” 马隆博士坐在电脑旁的椅子上，瞪眼看着她。 莱拉问：“这是真的吗？” “是的，你是怎么知道的？从那个……” “从我的真理仪。我想它靠尘埃工作。我来这儿就是为了更多地了解尘埃，它让我来找你。所以我想你的那个黑暗物质一定是同样的物质。现在我能试试你的山洞吗？” 马隆博士摇摇头，但没有说不，她只是很无奈，她摊开双手。“很好，”她说，“我想我是在做梦，我还是继续做吧。” 她坐在椅子上，转了个身，按动几个开关，传出电器运转的嗡嗡声和电脑散热器的风扇声，听到这声音，莱拉不由得吸了一口冷气，因为房间里的声音和伯尔凡加那个可怕的闪光的房间里的声音一模一样，那里的银制切刀差点把她和潘特莱蒙分开。她感到他在口袋里发抖，就轻轻地捏了捏他表示安慰。 但马隆博士并没有注意到这一幕，她忙着按动那些开关，又敲打着另外一个象牙色托盘上的字母键。她这么做的时候，屏幕变换着颜色，上面出现了一些小的字母和数字。 “现在你坐下，”她说着拖出一张椅子让莱拉坐下。她打开一个罐子，说道：“我要在你的皮肤上涂些胶，好让电磁接触，它很容易洗掉。现在别动。” 马隆博士拿出六根电线，每一根的顶端都是一片平板，她把它们一一接在莱拉头上不同的地方。莱拉端坐不动，但她呼吸急促，心脏剧烈地跳动着。 “好了，现在你已经全都被接上了，”马隆博士说，“这个房间到处都是阴影，说起来，宇宙中也充满了阴影，但我们惟一能看见它们的办法，就是意识一片空白时看着屏幕。好，开始。“莱拉看着。玻璃屏幕上一片黑暗，什么都没有，她只是隐约看见自己的影子，仅此而已。她尝试着假装在阅读真理仪，想像自己在问：这位女士了解多少关于尘埃的事？她问了哪些问题？ 她在意识中挪动了真理仪表盘上的指针，她这么做的时候，屏幕开始闪烁，她吃了一惊，从专注中回到现实，闪烁又消失了。她没有注意到马隆博士激动地坐直了身体。她皱了皱眉，面向前方坐好，再次开始集中注意力。 这次几乎是立即就有了回应。屏幕上闪过一股跳动的光，横扫过屏幕，就像极光闪烁起伏的光帘。它们聚集在一起，形成某种图案，过了一会儿又分散开，然后又聚在一起，变换着不同的图案和颜色，它们一会儿圆，一会儿长，又分散开来，形成一团团四处闪烁的亮光，就像一群飞鸟在空中变换着方向。莱拉注视着这一切，她还记得当初刚开始阅读真理仪时，有所领悟前的心中一动的感觉，现在她又有了同样的感觉。 她问了另一个问题，这是尘埃吗？画出这些图案的和使真理仪指针转动的是同样的东西吗？ 回答她的是更多盘旋变幻的光圈。她猜这意味着答案是“是”。她又有了另一个想法，她转身准备和马隆博士说话，却看见她张着嘴，两手抱着头。 “怎么了？”她说。 屏幕暗淡下去，马隆博士眨了眨眼睛。 “怎么了？”莱拉又问了一遍。 “哦——你刚才做的演示是我至今看到的最好的，”马隆博士说，“你刚才在做什么？你刚才在想什么？” “我在想其实你可以让它比现在更清楚。”莱拉说。 “更清楚？这已经是最清楚的了！” “但那是什么意思？你能读懂它吗？” “哦，”马隆博士说，“你不能像读一封信那样去读它，那样不管用。事实是阴影会对你表现出的注意力做出反应。那真是够新奇的，它们回应的是我们的注意力，你明白吗？” “不，”莱拉解释道，“我的意思是，那些颜色和形状，那些阴影可以干别的事，它们可以形成你想要的任何形状。如果你愿意，它们可以形成图像，你看。” 她转回身，再次集中注意力，但这次她假装那个屏幕就是周围有三十六个图案的真理仪。她对此太熟悉了，她放在膝盖上的手指不由自主地摆动起来，转动想像中的指针，指向蜡烛（象征理解），转向阿尔法和欧米迦（象征语言），转向蚂蚁（象征勤奋），这就形成了一个问题：这些人必须做什么才能理解阴影的语言？ 屏幕上立即有了反应，好像这个问题是它自己想的一样，从重叠波动的线条和闪光中显现了一系列清晰的图案，指南针，又是阿尔法和欧米迦，还有闪电和天使。每个图案闪现了不同的次数，再然后出现了三个不同的图案：骆驼、花园和月亮。 莱拉非常明白它们的含义，她放松注意力开始解释。这次，当她转过身来时，她看见马隆博士背靠着椅子坐着，脸色苍白，双手抓住了桌子的边沿。 “它是说，”莱拉告诉她，“它用的我的语言，就是——图片语言，就像真理仪。它说的是，如果你进行设置，它也能用普通的语言、词语。你那么设置，它就会在屏幕上显示出语句。但你得进行大量精确的数字运算——那就是指南针的意思。闪电的意思是电——我是指电力，和更多其他的东西。还有天使——指的是信息。它还想说些别的，但这时它继续转到了第二部分……它指的是亚洲，几乎是在最远的东方，但还不算最远。我不知道那是哪个国家——也许是中国。 那个国家的人有一种和尘埃——我是指阴影——对话的方法，就像你在这儿从事的研究，以及我和——我和那些图案，只不过他们用的是棍子。我想那就是指门上的那幅画，但我并不明白，真的。当我第一次看见门上的那幅画的时候，就觉得它有特别重要的地方，只不过我不知道重要在哪里。所以一定还有许多和阴影对话的其他方法。 " 马隆博士目瞪口呆。 “，”她说，“是的，那是中国的东西，是一种预言——算命的，真的……还有，对，他们使用棍子。那幅画挂在那儿只是为了装饰。”她说，好像要向莱拉证明她并不真正相信这一点，“你是告诉我人们通过也接触阴影粒子？接触黑暗物质？” “是的，”莱拉说道，“就像我说的，有很多方法。以前我没有认识到这一点，我原来以为只有一种方法。” “屏幕上的那些图案……”马隆博士开口说道。 莱拉感到脑中思想的火花一闪而过，她转身去看屏幕。她还没来得及再形成一个问题，屏幕上又闪现了更多的图案，一个接一个飞快地闪过，马隆博士目不暇接，但莱拉知道它们在说什么，她又转过身来面对着她。 “它说你也很重要，”她对科学家说，“它说你有很重要的工作要做。我不知道那是指什么，但那如果不是真的，它是不会这么说的。所以你应该让它使用词语，这样你就可以知道它在说什么。” 马隆博士沉默不语，然后问道：“好吧，你从哪儿来？” 莱拉张口结舌。她认识到，现在马隆博士已经完全从筋疲力尽的状态恢复过来了，她原本不会把她的研究工作展示给一个来历不明的陌生孩子，现在她已经开始后悔了。但莱拉得讲出事实真相。 “我来自另一个世界，”她说，“这是真的。我来到这个世界，我是……我不得不逃跑，因为我的世界里有人追我，要杀死我。真理仪来自……来自同一个地方，乔丹学院的院长把它送给了我。我的牛津有一个乔丹学院，但这儿没有了。 我看过以后自己学会了阅读真理仪。我有一个办法可以使自己意识空白，然后我就立刻知道那些图案的意思。就像你说的……怀疑和神秘之类的。所以当我看山洞的时候，我同样这么做，它也做了同样的事，所以我的尘埃和你的阴影是一回事，所以……” 现在马隆博士完全清醒了。莱拉拿起真理仪，用天鹅绒包起来，就像母亲保护孩子一样，然后才放进背包里。 “不管怎样，”她说，“如果你愿意，你可以让你的屏幕用语句跟你交流，然后你就可以跟阴影对话，就像我和真理仪对话一样。不过我想知道的是，为什么我的世界里，人们那么恨它？我是指尘埃，阴影，黑暗物质。他们想毁掉它，他们认为它是邪恶的。但我觉得他们的所作所为才是邪恶的，我看见他们这么做了。所以，阴影究竟是什么？是好是坏？还是别的什么？” 马隆博士揉揉自己的脸，她的脸颊又变得红润起来。 “关于它的一切都令人困窘，”她说，“你知道在科学实验室里讲善恶是多么令人困窘吗？你有什么想法？我成为科学家的原因之一就是不想考虑这种事情。” “你得考虑，”莱拉严肃地说，“不考虑善恶，你就无法调查阴影，尘埃，不管叫它什么。它说你得去做，记住，你不能拒绝。他们打算什么时候关闭这地方？” “基金委员会这个星期结束时会决定……怎么了？” “那你就今天晚上搞出来，”莱拉说，“你可以让你的机器用语句显示，而不是像我那样用图案，你很容易就能做到。然后你可以演示给他们看，他们就会给钱让你继续研究。你会发现所有关于尘埃或是阴影的事情，然后再告诉我。” 她显得有点傲慢，就像公爵夫人评论一个不太令人满意的女佣似的。她继续说道：“真理仪不会确切告诉我需要知道的东西，但你会帮我发现，否则我可能就得靠和那些棍子了。但不管怎样，我认为图像更容易。我要取下这些东西了。” 她说着把电极板从头上拿了下来。 马隆博士递给她一张纸巾，让她擦掉那些胶。她收起了电线。 “那你要走了？”她说，“哦，你无疑给了我奇怪的一个小时。” “你要让它用语句显示吗？”莱拉问道，她拿起了背包。 “我敢说，它和填基金申请表的作用一样大，”马隆博士说，“不，听着，我想让你明天再来，你行吗？同一时间？我想让你演示给别人看。” 莱拉眯了眯眼睛。这会不会是个陷阱？ “哦，好吧。”她说，“但你要记住，我想要知道一些事情。” “是的，当然。你会来吗？” “会的。”莱拉说，“如果我说会来，我就会来的，希望我能帮助你。” Then she left.门卫从桌边抬起头看了一眼，然后又回去看他的报纸了。 “冰原岛峰挖掘，”考古学家坐在椅子里摇晃着说道，“你是一个月内问这件事的第二个人。” “那个人是谁？”威尔问道，他立刻警惕起来。 “我想他是个记者吧，我不能肯定。”他说。 “他为什么要了解这件事？”他问。 “和那次旅行中失踪的一个人有关。探险队失踪的时候正是冷战高峰，星球大战，那时你还小，可能不记得。美国人和俄国人在北极地区建造巨大的雷达站……总之吧，我能为你做什么？” “那好，”威尔说道，他竭力保持平静，“我就是想了解那次探险，真的，因为学校布置了一项关于史前人类的研究作业，我读了关于探险队失踪的文章，我很好奇。” “哦，你知道，不只是你一个人。那时候，这件事曾轰动一时。我帮那个记者都查到了。那只是一次初步考察，并不是严格意义上的挖掘。在还不知道是不是值得花时间去挖掘时，人们不会开始挖掘。所以那个小组去勘察一些地点，准备写一份报告。总共有六七个傻瓜蛋，有时候这种探险需要把不同类型的人组织在一起——你知道，地理学家或是别的什么人——以便分担开支。他们研究他们的，我们研究我们的。这样，那个队里就有一个物理学家。我想他要找一种高空大气粒子。极光，你知道，就是北极光。显然，他带着配备了无线电发报机的热气球。 “他们之中还有一个人，曾经当过海军，是职业探险家。他们去了一个相当荒凉的地区。在北极地区，北极熊经常成为威胁，考古学家能处理一些事情，但我们并没有受过射击训练，有一个会射击、导航和宿营等所有生存技能的人当然非常有用。 “但后来他们都失踪了。他们原来和当地的一个考察站保持着无线电联络，但有一天信号没有出现，他们什么都没有听见，后来他们也没有收到过信号。那时有过一场大风雪，但那很寻常。搜救队发现了他们的最后一个帐篷，虽然北极熊吃光了里面的干粮，但那个帐篷相当完整。可是那里却没有任何探险队员的痕迹。 “恐怕我能告诉你的就是这些了。” “好的，”威尔说，“谢谢你。嗯……那个记者，”他在门口停下来，继续问道，“你说他对其中一个人很感兴趣，是哪一个？” “是个探险家，一个叫佩里的人。” “他长什么样？我是说那个记者。” “你为什么要打听这个？” “因为……”威尔想不出合适的理由，他真不该问这个问题，“没什么原因，我就是好奇。” “我记得他是一个高大的白人，浅黄色头发。” “好的，谢谢。”威尔说着转身走了。 那个人一言不发地注视着他离开房间，他皱起了眉头。威尔看见他的手伸向电话，便迅速离开了那栋楼。 他发现自己在发抖。那个所谓的记者就是去过他家的那伙人中的一个：个子很高，浅黄色毛发，看上去好像没长眉毛或是眼睫毛。他不是被威尔撞下楼的那个人，而是威尔跑下楼梯，从那具尸体上跳过时，在起居室门口出现的那个人。 他可不是记者。 附近有一个大博物馆。威尔继续走着，手中拿着笔记本，好像在工作，他在一个挂着图片的陈列室坐了下来。他颤抖得厉害，觉得恶心想吐，因为压迫着他的念头就是他杀了人，是杀人凶手。他一直压制着这个念头，可现在这个念头却越来越逼近他。他夺走了那个人的生命。 他一动不动地坐了大约半个小时，这是他经历的最难熬的半小时。人们来来往往，观看着图片，轻声讲着话，丝毫没有注意他，陈列室的工作人员背着双手在门口站了几分钟，然后慢慢踱开了。威尔为他干过的事恐惧万分，他呆若木鸡。 慢慢地，他平静多了。他是在保卫他的母亲，他们一直在恐吓她，他们明知她的健康状况，还迫害她。他有权保卫自己的家，父亲也会希望他这么做的。他这么做光明正大，他是为了阻止他们偷走那只绿色的皮文具包，他是为了找到父亲，难道他没有这个权利吗？他又想起了所有那些童年的游戏，他和父亲在雪崩时、在与海盗的搏斗中救助对方。现在，这些都是真的了。我会找到您的，他在心中说道。帮助我，我会找到您的，我们会照顾妈妈，一切都会好起来的……毕竟，他现在有个藏身之处，一个非常安全、没人会找到他的地方。盒子里的文件（他还没来得及去看）被他藏在喜鹊城的床垫下，也很安全。 最后他注意到人们开始有目的地朝同一个方向走动，他们准备离开了，因为博物馆的工作人员对他们说还有十分钟就要关门了。威尔打起精神也离开了。他发现自己走在去商业大街的路上，那个律师的办公室就在那条街上，他在犹豫要不要去见他，尽管他说过那些话。可那人听起来还是很友善的……但就在他下定决心要穿过马路走进办公室的时候，他突然停住了。 浅黄色眉毛的高个子男人正从一辆车里出来。 威尔立刻若无其事地转过身，看着旁边珠宝店的橱窗。他看见了那人的影子，那人看看四周，扶正领带结，走进了律师的办公室。他一进去，威尔就溜走了，他的心脏又狂跳起来。没有什么地方是安全的。他失魂落魄地走向大学的图书馆，在那里等待莱拉。