Chapter 20 11-2

"We're all on orders," Manuel said. "That's the way it is here these days, Chris. It's the people at the top who decide not to let this get out there, people at the top. You just be The president of the United States is a science fan. He regards genetic engineering as an opportunity to create history, and he does not hesitate to invest large sums of money in research, just as Roosevelt and Truman sponsored the Manhattan Project and Kennedy vigorously developed the moon landing plan. Suppose he and his Everyone around him, the politicians who came after him, are now deciding to cover it up."

"Is that really the case?" "The people at the top don't want to risk the public outrage. Perhaps they are afraid of being thrown out of power. Perhaps they are afraid of being sentenced to a felony against humanity. They are afraid of being quartered by an angry mob. I mean the garrison at Castle Werwin and their Family members, they may have been infected. Now, they have been scattered all over the country, who knows how many people they have infected? Once the word gets out, it will only cause national panic. The international community will definitely take action to quarantine the entire United States, although It's no use doing that either. Maybe this whole thing won't lead to any huge impact, maybe it will taper off after it reaches its peak."

"Is there such a possibility?" "perhaps." "I don't think that's a possibility." He shrugged, running a hand through Toby's hair, which was messed up by the straps of his goggles. "Not everyone who undergoes transformation has the same symptoms as Stevenson. There are infinite possibilities for change that can happen to everyone. Some people go through some bad phases ... and get over it, their body It is changing all the time. This is not a single event, like an earthquake or a typhoon that ends once, it is a continuous process. When it is really necessary, I will personally solve Stevenson."

I didn't admit it, but said lightly: "Perhaps the situation is more compelling than you imagined." "I can't just hearsay. There must be an order in everything, and society will be stable." "But there was no one to keep order." "There's still me here," he said. "Could you have been infected without knowing it?" "No, it's impossible." "Have you changed without knowing it?" "Won't." "Have you changed?" "No." "You frighten me, Manuel." The owl hooted again.A weak but comfortable breeze blew, like soup stirring up the white mist like thick soup.

"Go home," said Mainuu. "It will be light soon." "Who ordered Angela to be killed?" "go home." "Who the hell?" "Nobody ordered that." "I thought she was murdered because she was trying to bring the truth out. She had nothing to fear, she told me, she said she was scared that she didn't know what was going to...become." "It's the poisonous hands of those monkeys." "Who are they at the behest of?" "No one ordered them. We can't even find the damned ones anywhere." I guess I know one of their hiding places, the flood sewers in the hills, where I found piles of skeletal skulls.But I don't want to reveal this secret to Mainu for the time being, because I haven't yet decided who is my most dangerous enemy, the monkeys?Or Manuel and his party?

"If it wasn't at the behest of someone, why did they kill her?" "They have their own conspiracies, and sometimes their ideas coincide with ours, and they don't want this matter to be made public, and they pin their future on the coming new world, so if they reveal They will get rid of Angela's plans through some channels. Chris, there is no mastermind behind this. There are many factions-friendly animals, vicious animals, scientists from Werven Castle, those People who have turned bad and people who have turned good. There are many competing factions, it is a mess. And this mess will only get worse until things are resolved. Now you can go home, Don't meddle in this matter anymore, let go before no one deals with you like they did with An Yanla."

"Is this a threat?" He was silent. As I was leaving, leading my bike across the backyard, Toby said suddenly, "Christopher. Snow. Christmas snow. Christmas and Santa. Santa and sleigh. Sleigh and snow. Christmas." Snow. Christopher. Snow talk." He smiled innocently, amused by his strange word play.And obviously happy to see the surprised look on my face. The Toby I know.Ramirez couldn't even do such a simple word association game. I said to Manuel, "You're starting to pay off for working with them, haven't you?" He was extremely proud of Toby's performance just now. I was deeply moved by this scene, and I was too sad to face him.

"Although he lacks many things, he has been living happily." I said. "He's found a purpose for his existence and a place to be himself. Now if they push him to a level where he's resentful of himself...is there a way they can bring him back to normal?" "They'll figure it out," Manuel believed blindly. "They'll figure it out." "Do you believe in the people who created these nightmares?" "Everything has a dark side." I thought of the miserable cry of that animal in the attic of the priest's mansion, the mourning filled with the despair of being unable to speak but eager to communicate with others.I thought of Orson staring despondently at the sky that midsummer night.

"God help you, Toby," I said, because I counted him my friend too. "May God bless you." "We've given God a chance," Manuel said. "From now on, we're going to create our own destiny." I have to get out of here, not just because the sun is coming.I continued to lead the bike across the backyard, and before I knew it, my legs began to rush forward, until I left their house far behind and rushed back to the street. When I looked back at this Nantucket-style house again, it was not what I remembered.It looks smaller, cramped, and daunting than ever.

The east began to appear pale. If it weren't for the silver light seeping out of the sunrise, it must be the end of the world. In the past twelve hours, I have lost my father, my many years of friendship with Manuel and Toby, and many illusions and innocences have been shattered, and I am afraid that there are many more serious losses ahead. Ourson and I went straight to Sasha's place. Sasha's house is owned by KBAY, which is one of the perks of being the general manager of the radio station.It was a two-story Victorian cottage, and the fine carpentry was evident in all the skylights, gables, cornices, window and door surrounds, and balcony railings.If it weren't for the color of the paint, the whole house would look like a jewel box.Ivory exterior walls, pink shutters and balcony railings, and the carpentry is all in Lime colors.The overall look could have been mistaken for a bunch of Jimmy Buffet fans painting it after some drugs and a weekend of partying.

Sasha didn't mind the showy exterior of the house.As she said, she lived inside anyway, and it didn't matter what the outside looked like. The spacious balcony is entirely sealed with glass. Considering the colder season, Sasha installed heating inside and converted the balcony into a greenhouse.Rows of tables, benches, and sturdy metal shelves are filled with hundreds of potted plants, including wormwood, thyme, white mangosteen, kudzu, and chervil. She uses them as cooking ingredients, using For lightly scented dry sachets and wholesome herbal teas. I never bring my own keys.Sasha kept a backup key in a pot shaped like a gift, hidden under the yellow leaves of the vanilla.As the deadly dawn dawned pale in the east, and the world prepared to slip into murderous sleep, I allowed myself to slip quietly into Sasha's house for refuge.Walking into the kitchen, the first thing I do is turn on the radio, Sasha is killing the last half hour of the program, making the weather forecast, we have not yet left the rainy season, there will be clouds coming from the northwest, there will be a short period of time after nightfall shower. If she had predicted that we would be hit by a hundred-foot tsunami and a flood of lava from a volcano, I might have listened with more gusto.Whenever I hear her soft and slightly magnetic voice on the radio, a smile will appear on my face. Even on this morning near the end of the world, I am still irresistibly soothed and teased by her voice. It was getting brighter outside the window, and Olsen walked to a plastic carpet in the corner without hesitation, and there were two hard-shell plastic dog bowls on it.Its name is written on every bowl, and whether it's Barbie's cabin or Sasha's, it's treated like family. My dog ​​has been called many names since he was a child, but he has never seriously responded to those names.Later, we found out it was on our rented Orson.We took Welles' film so seriously, especially the scenes in which Welles himself appears, that we half-jokingly named it after the actor-director.From then on, it only responds to the jingle name. When it found both bowls were empty, Olsen picked up one of the bowls and came to me.I filled it with water and put it back on the plastic mat to keep the bowl from slipping on the tile floor. Then he picked up another bowl and looked at me beggingly. Like all dogs, Orson's face was designed for begging expressions, and he looked as good as a first-rate actor. When we sat at the Nostromo table with Roosevelt and Montgogeli, I had a funny picture of dogs playing poker, and the image kept coming to me, and I felt like my subconscious was trying to I revealed something important, and now I understand that each dog in the picture represents a typical human being, and each one is as intelligent as a human being.When I was on the boat, because Orson and the cat played a game of "ridiculous stereotypes", I deeply realized that the animals in Werwen Castle were smarter than I originally imagined, so smart that I didn't want to admit it.If they can hold cards and talk, maybe they can win the cards, and even take me to the dry cleaners to do my laundry. "It's still early," I said, taking the dog bowl from Orson's mouth. "But it's because you've been tossing around all night." I poured a portion of his favorite dry dog ​​food into his bowl and circled the kitchen, closing the shutters to keep out the increasingly menacing gaze.As I closed the last shutter, I thought I heard a door close somewhere in the house. I stopped still and listened carefully to the movement in the house. "What the hell is it?" I muttered to myself. Olsen patted his head from the bowl, sniffed the smell in the air, tilted his head and yelled, and continued to eat his dog food. It must be the three hundred circus troupes in my head.I went to the sink to wash my hands and splashed some cold water on my face. Sasha kept the kitchen spotless, sparkling everywhere and smelling sweet, but crowded with kitchen utensils.She is a culinary expert, and all kinds of weird kitchen utensils take up half of the countertop.There are so many pots and pans hanging on the elevated shelves, it makes you feel like you are in a grotto full of stalactites.I walk around the house, with the shutters closed, and I can feel her life in every corner.She is always full of energy, and even when she is out, there is still her breath in the home. The furnishings in her home do not have any interior design theme, and she does not emphasize the coordination between furniture and artwork.On the contrary, each room reflects her different passions and hobbies. She is a woman full of passion in everything. Her meals are served at the large kitchen table, as the former dining room has been converted into a music studio.Along one wall is an electric organ, a full-featured synthesizer that she could even compose for an entire symphony orchestra, next to the music stand she uses to compose, and a stack waiting for her to write. blank sheet music.There is a set of drums in the center of the music room, and a high-end cello and a low piano chair stand in the corner.In another corner, next to the music stand, a saxophone hangs from a copper hanger made just for saxophones.In addition, there are two guitars, an acoustic guitar and an electric guitar. The living room is the world of books, and reading is another hobby of hers.Every wall is lined with bookshelves, and the shelves are lined with books.The furniture in the living room, while not modern, is tasteful, with chairs and sofas made of natural materials designed for comfort, perfect for lounging, talking or reading for a few hours. On the second floor, the first room on the landing features a stationary exercise bike. A rowing machine, a set of two- to twenty-pound dumbbells in two-pound intervals, and an exercise pad. In addition to the gym, this is also her medicine room, which stores all kinds of vitamins and minerals, and it is also the place where she practices yoga.Every time she got on her exercise bike, she couldn't stop sweating thirty miles.She would stay on the rowing machine until she was rowing across the Taihe Lake in her mind, humming to Sarah while she maintained the rhythmic rowing motion.Sarah McLachlan, Juliana.Hartfield (JulianaHarfield), Marydis.Brooks (Meredith Brooks) or Sasha.Gudao's song.As she did sit-ups and leg raises, the cushions beneath her body seemed to start smoking halfway through.When she finishes exercising, she always looks more energetic than before exercising.When meditating through various yoga poses, she exudes a relaxation power that is enough to shatter the four walls of the entire room. Omg I love her so much. When I walked out of the exercise room, the ominous premonition that I was about to lose her hit my heart again. I couldn't help shaking violently all over my body, and I had to lean against the wall to calm myself down. She was fine during the day, a ten-minute drive home across the city from the radio station at Sig Hill.Night seems to be the time when monkeys come and go.Mutant villains like Stevenson also seem to have higher self-control under the sun than under the moon.Just like the monster man in "The Island of Dr. Moreau", the bestiality comes out at night.When night falls, they lose their ability to control themselves, making them emboldened to do things they dare not do during the day.Since it is daytime now, Sasha will be absolutely fine.This is perhaps the first time in my childhood that I feel relieved that the day is coming. Finally, I came to her bedroom.The style of the bed is very simple, with a plain headboard and no footboard at the end of the bed, and the bed is only covered with a thin white velvet coverlet.The dresser, bedside tables and lamps are completely devoid of anything special.The wall of the bedroom is light yellow, just like the color of the morning sun in the clouds.Some people may think that the furnishings of the room are a bit monotonous, but as long as Sasha is present, this place is far more exquisite and luxuriously decorated than any Baroque bedroom in a French castle, and it is also more peaceful than any meditation place in a Zen temple.She sleeps in fits and starts.As soon as she fell asleep, she was like a stone sinking in the sea. People often couldn't help reaching out to touch her, feeling her body temperature, trying to see if she had a pulse, for fear that she would fall asleep like this.She is also passionate about people.When she makes love to you, the whole room seems to temporarily cease to exist, making you feel like you are somewhere beyond time and space, where there is only Sasha, only the light and heat radiating from the earth, her brilliant radiance is always so dazzling Not scorching. As I went around the end of the bed to the three shuttered windows against the wall, I noticed something resting on the velvet coverlet.It was a small, irregular-looking thing, but smooth, a shard of shiny painted porcelain, carved with ten smiling mouths, one curved cheek, and one blue eye.That was Angela.Fragments of Christopher Doll's face smashed against the wall at Freeman's House. Apparently at least one monkey had been here the previous night. Shaking, not from fear, but from anger, I jerked my pistol out of my jacket and began a carpet search of the house, every room, every closet, every cupboard, anything that was a nuisance. All the gaps that the guy can hide in are not let go.Cursing and daring threats, I yanked open doors, slammed drawers shut, and jabbed under furniture with the handle of my broom.My loud noises immediately attracted Orson's attention, and he rushed to me thinking I had a violent fight with someone, and then he tried to follow me at a safe distance. As a result, there was not even half a monkey in the house. When I was done searching, I couldn't help but want to take a bucket of high-strength ammonia and wipe every corner of the house that the monkeys might have touched, so as to remove the psychological pollution, as if they were not alone. It is the experimental product of Wei Wenbao, but a monster that emerges from the will-o'-the-wisps of hell and the screams of sinners.Putting the matter of ammonia aside, I quickly picked up the phone in the kitchen and dialed the special line of the KBAY studio.As I typed in the last number, it dawned on me that Sasha would be on her way home, so I immediately dialed her mobile phone number. "Hey, Snowman," she replied. "Where are you?" "I'll be home in five minutes." "Are your doors locked?" "what?" "For heaven's sake, are your car doors locked?" She hesitated, then said, "It's locked now." "Don't let anyone stop you halfway, whether that person is a friend or a policeman, if it's a policeman, you can't stop." "What if I accidentally run over an old lady?" "That would never be an old lady, she just looks like it." "Why are you so weird all of a sudden, Snowman?" "It's not me that's changed, it's the whole world. Listen, I want you to stay on the line until you drive into the house." "The explorer reported to the tower that the dense fog has subsided, and you don't need to navigate for me anymore." "I'm not navigating for you, I want you to guide me to land, I have a situation here." "I noticed." "I need to hear your voice, all the way, until you come home, I have to hear your voice." "Sound as smooth as a bay," she said, trying to put my mind at ease. I kept her on the line until she pulled the truck into the parking spot and shut the engine off. Whether it has the sun or not, I wish I could rush out and escort her out of the car immediately.I wanted to follow her with the pistol and escort her into the house through the back balcony, which was her usual entrance.It seemed like an hour had passed when I heard footsteps on the back balcony.I stood in a ray of morning light entering the kitchen as she walked across the potted table and opened the back door. I held her in my arms and slammed the door behind her. At that moment we were tight Hug each other until we can't breathe.I kissed her and she felt so warm and real, real and radiant, radiant and alive. However, no matter how tightly I hug her, no matter how sweet her kisses are, I can't get rid of the premonition that I'm about to lose her.