The first mixed-sex colonists arrived on Mars; seventeen of the twenty-three on board survived, six of whom returned to Earth.Future colonists come to Peru to be trained at an altitude of 16,000 meters.One night, the Argentine president went to Montevideo, Uruguay's capital, with two suitcases; the new president applied to the Federal Superior Court for extradition to get him back, or at least the suitcases.Agnes Douglas' final memorial service was held in the National Cathedral, a private service attended by two thousand people; the Secretary-General's fortitude in the death of a loved one drew praise from critics.An upset at the Kentucky Derby, with 126-pound three-year-old Colt Inflation winning at 54-to-1; Two guests collapsed one after another, one voluntarily and one due to a heart attack.
The biography "The Devil and Frost," which was not authorized by the Church of New Revelation, was privately reprinted and appeared all over the United States at the same time; but by the time the sun went down, every copy had been burned clean and the printing plates destroyed. Accompanied by various movable and immovable property losses, plus intentional injuries and attacks, several people were injured and disabled in the end.Rumor has it that there is still a copy of the first edition in the British Museum (not true), and in the Vatican Library (true, but only for Catholic scholars).
The Tennessee legislature is voting on a bill to make pi equal to three; the bill, introduced by the Committee on Public Education and Ethics, was passed unanimously by the lower house and rejected by the upper house.A multi-church fundamentalist group sets up an office in Van Buren, Arkansas, solicits funds to send missionaries to Mars; Dr. Jubal Harshaw donates money, signed by the editor-in-chief of The New Humanist The name (and address) of a radical atheist and one of his close friends.
Other than that, Jubal wasn't having much fun.There is only one reason: Mike has too much news.He treasured the time when Jill and Mike were home, and was very interested in Mike's progress, especially after he developed a sense of humor.But they rarely come home now, and the recent situation has not made Jubal happy.
The Association of Seminaries kicked Mike out, and there was a whole bunch of outraged theologians shaking their fists behind his back, some of them angry because they believed in God, others because they didn't believe there was such a thing as a God—but both sides There is a tacit understanding in loathing visitors from Mars.Jubal was not bothered by this. He always felt that theologians were not good people, and they deserved everything they encountered except for the cracked car.Besides, this experience is good for that child, and next time he will know how to behave himself.
Mike (with Douglas's help) forges another name and starts serving in the Union Army, but that doesn't bother Jubal either.Because he knew in his heart that no sergeant could hurt Mike.As for what will happen to the federal army, it doesn't matter to him. (Harshaw is a disgruntled reactionary who burned the honorary veterans medal the day America lost its military, everything.)
To Jubal's surprise, Mike's "Private Jones" didn't cause much trouble, and for a long time--almost three weeks.Mike's military career came to a close after a lecture in which he seized the opportunity to rant about the futility of force (while commenting on the superiority of cannibalism to reduce the surplus population), and he volunteered to be a guinea pig in the hope that on the spot Prove your point: there is no need for a weapon of any nature, and it is impossible to use it against a self-disciplined person.
Instead of accepting his offer, they kicked him out of the army.
Douglas showed Jubal a top-secret, non-duplicate report of only three surviving copies, and reminded him that no one, not even the Chief of Staff, knew that Private Jones was a visitor from Mars.Jubal skimmed through and found the most contradictory section involving Jones' training in the use of weapons; to Jubal's amazement, there are some kindred people in the world who have the audacity to testify under oath that they saw the weapons disappear .
Jubal read the last paragraph carefully. "Conclusion: Evaluated subject is a natural hypnotist, and may be useful in intelligence services, but not suitable for any combat unit. However, its low IQ (low energy level", ultra-low general scores and paranoid tendencies (self-greatness) Make it difficult for us to develop his idiot-expert talent. Suggestion: Discharge, disqualification - no pension, no veteran's pension."
Mike had a lot of fun for himself.His last day in the army happened to be a military parade, and when Mike's company was paraded, the general and his entire staff were waist-deep in... idyllic produce.That sort of thing has its symbolism, but it's a rarity on parade grounds these days.But they quickly disappear without a trace, leaving behind only an unforgettable smell.Everyone believed that this was a collective hypnosis.Jubal was convinced that Mike had really bad taste in practical jokes.He couldn't help thinking of an incident in his medical school involving a dead body and the dean.Fortunately, he didn't forget to wear rubber gloves that time!
Jubal actually enjoyed Mike's undignified military career, because Jill stayed at home during that time.When the incident was over and Mike returned home, the experience seemed to be unimpressive to him.He bragged to Jubal that he listened to Jill and didn't let anyone disappear, only a few lifeless things... But according to Mike's own epiphany, if Jill hadn't been so soft-hearted, the earth would have had several A second chance can be turned into a better place.Jubal didn't argue with him; he himself had a long "better to die" list.
The way Mike grew up was unique, and that's fine because Mike himself was unique.But that last trick of his was off the mark: "Dear Rev. Valentine M. Smith, Ph.D., BA, D.D., Ph.D., Founder, Universal Church, Inc."—Damn it!It was bad enough that the boy was determined to be a false saint when a gentleman had no business minding about souls.And those pheasant college degrees—Jubal just felt sick.
Worst of all, Mike claims that Jubal was the inspiration.He was said to have heard Jubal swear by the church and its power before hatching the idea.Jubal admits those words are indeed his style, but can't remember when he said them.
Mike was very cautious in the specific operation.He spent a few months at a very small, very poor missionary college, passed his exams for a bachelor's degree, and then was "called by God" to become a priest in this silly little denomination—because it After all, it is officially recognized.He wrote a doctoral dissertation on comparative religion—a masterpiece of scholarship—but evaded any conclusions.This doctorate is said to be "paid for by hard work".At the same time, a donation (anonymous) happened to fall to this very hungry school.Soon after, he received a second doctorate (honours) for "advancement in the knowledge of the stars".A prestigious and reputable university shouldn't have done this, but Mike made it very clear that he could attend their conference on solar system research, but there was no room for negotiation in return.In the past, visitors from Mars have turned down all similar invitations, from Caltech to Kaiser Wilhelm College, and Harvard couldn't refuse such a bait.
Well, Jubal couldn't resist another sneer.Now these kids are real.Mike had been a curate for a few weeks at the church where he was ordained, and then he split off from that poor denomination and started his own.Perfectly orthodox, legally impeccable, traditionally respectable as Martin Luther - and reeking like last week's trash.
Miriam pulled Jubal out of his sour daydream, "Boss! Someone is here!"
Jubal raised his eyes to see a car preparing to land. "Bring me my shotgun, Larry. I swore I'd kill that fool if anyone ever set foot on a rose."
"He's driving to the grass, sir."
"Let him come. We'll catch him this time."
"Like Ben? Ben Caxton."
"It's really him. Hi, Ben! What's for a drink?"
"Nothing, you're no doctor. I need to talk to you, Jubal."
"Aren't you talking, Dorcas, give Ben a cup of hot milk; he's sick."
"Less soda," Ben corrected, "and more booze. Talk privately, Jubal."
"Okay, go to my study. No, if you can really fool these children, remember to share your method with me." Ben greeted the family members (he did not greet three of them in the same way. face), they strolled up the stairs.
"What's going on? Did I go wrong?"
"Well, you haven't seen the new wing. Two bedrooms and a bathroom downstairs—and then up here, my art gallery."
"There are so many statues, enough for the entire cemetery!"
"Come on, Ben. The 'statues' are dead politicians. This is the 'sculpture.' Please be respectful, so I don't get violent. These are replicas. This goddamn planet has created some great sculptures, here , you can find some of the best of them.”
"Ah, I've seen that scary thing... but when did you get those other big rocks?"
Jubal stared at "beautiful Omiel", "don't listen to his nonsense, my little sweetheart - he's a savage and doesn't understand anything." He put out a hand and stroked her beautiful wrinkled cheek , and gently touched her shriveled, shriveled breasts, "I know how you feel...it won't be long. Be patient, my love."
He turned to Ben Caxton and said sternly, "Ben, I've got to teach you a lesson in how to look at sculpture. You're being rude to a lady, and that's something I won't stand."
"Eh? Don't be silly, Jubal; you've always been rude to ladies yourself—live ladies—at least a dozen times a day."
Jubal yelled, "Annie! Come upstairs! Put on your notary's coat!"
"Of course I'm not disrespectful to the old lady who is doing the modeling, you know that. But those so-called artists, oh, how can they pull people's old grandmothers to pose naked... and your taste It's so bad that I want to keep it around, I just can't understand it."
Anne entered in her notary's cloak.Jubal asked, "Annie, have I ever been rude to you, or any girl? Even once?"
"Does this require my opinion?"
"It's your opinion I want. You're not in court."
"You were never rude to either of us, Jubal."
"To the best of your knowledge, have I ever done this to a lady?"
"I've seen you be intentionally rude to women, but I've never seen you be rude to a lady."
"One more question. What do you think of the bronze sculpture?"
Anne looked at Rodin's masterpiece and said word by word: "When I first saw it, I thought it was terrible. But now, I think it may be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."
"Thanks. That's all." Annie turned away. "Any more arguments, Ben?"
"What? Arguing with Anne who is sure, unless I'm crazy. But I can't get my head around it."
"Listen well, Ben. Anyone can tell which girl is pretty. Artists can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she's going to be. Better artists can tell from old women sees the pretty girl of the past. A really great artist can look at an old woman and copy her exactly... and force others to see how beautiful she was... Not only that, but he can make any Man--anyone not more dull than an armadillo--sees that the lovely young girl is still alive, and is imprisoned in her ruined body. He can make you feel the silent, never-ending tragedy: any A girl's always as young at heart as she was eighteen...no matter what cruel time has done to her. Look at her, Ben. Aging doesn't matter much to you or me--but to them? Look at her !"
Ben looked at her.After a while, Jubal said gruffly, "Come on, blow your nose. Come and sit down."
"No," replied Ben Caxton. "What about this one? I see it's a girl. But why tie her up like a French horn?"
Jubal looked at a reproduction of Ben's saying, "The Maiden Creeping Under the Stone", "She was much bigger than the French Horn. I don't expect you to appreciate this, but you should understand what Rodin is trying to express .Why do you all go to see the cross?"
"You know I don't go to church much."
"But you must know that crosses are usually a symbol of cruelty, and church crosses are often the worst... Bloody ketchup, and the ex-carpenter looks like a sissy... But he wasn't a sissy at all. He was a Vibrant people, healthy and strong. But for most people, no matter how bad the portrait is, it makes no difference. What they see is not a blemish, but a symbol that stirs emotion in the deepest part of their heart; The cross reminded them of God's suffering and sacrifice."
"Jubbal, I thought you weren't a Christian."
"So am I supposed to turn a blind eye to human emotion? The ugliest plaster cross inspires the strongest emotions in a person, and one is willing to die for them. The meaning of the symbol has nothing to do with its artistry. Now What you see is another symbol of emotion - but one that incorporates the most elegant art. Ben, for three thousand years, architects have designed columns as female figures when building houses. Finally, Rodin told the world that this is very important to a It was too heavy for a girl. He didn't say, 'Look, you bastards, if you have to do this, get a muscular man on it.' No, he spoke with art. The poor girl fell Under the weight, she's a good girl - look at her face. Tight face, moping about her failure, not complaining at all...Desperately trying to carry her burden even when she's crushed.
"She doesn't just make shitty work look bad; she's a symbol of every woman who's ever carried a burden she can't bear. And it's not just women—it's a symbol of all the resilient men and women who Take your own life, never whine or cry until you're crushed by the burden. That's courage, Ben, and victory."
"'victory'?"
"Victory over defeat, there's nothing greater. She didn't give up, Ben; she wanted to lift that rock even when she was crushed. She was a father eaten by cancer, working till the end, well Bring home the last few bills; she's a twelve-year-old mother to younger brothers and sisters, because mother's called to heaven; Seeing the fire cut off my way. She is the unsung hero of all, knowing that there is no hope, but never giving up. Remember to pay her respects when passing by. Come and see my little mermaid."
Ben actually saluted.Jubal watched without saying a word. "Well, this one," he said, "wasn't given by Mike. I don't have to tell Mike why I bought it... The reason is obvious: in the human eye and Of all the creations of the hands, it is one of the most delightful."
"This one needs no explanation - it's beautiful!"
"That reason alone is enough. We like kittens and butterflies for the same reason. But she's not all about beauty. She's not quite a mermaid—see?—and she's not human .She sits on the land, where she chooses...but always looks out to sea, lost in endless loneliness because of what she left behind. Do you know the story?"
"Hans Christian Andersen."
"That's right. She's sitting in Copenhagen Harbor right now, and she's everyone who has made a hard choice. She doesn't regret it, but she has to pay; every choice has a price. Not only does she have to endure endless homesickness, but she will always Can't really be human. When she walks, every step is like a knife's edge. Ben, I think Mike walks on a knife's edge, but don't tell him I said so."
"I won't. I'd rather dream of her than think of those sharp knives."
"She's a cutie, isn't she? Want to put her in bed? She'll be as quick as a seal and as slippery."
"Bah! What an old villain you are, Jubal."
"And it's getting worse every year. We don't look at anything else, and normally, I give myself a quota of one a day."
"It's just what I like. I feel like I drank three glasses in one go. Jubal, why is there no such thing in a public place where everyone can see?"
"Because the world has gone crazy and silly, and art can only reflect its time. Rodin died just when the world was going crazy. His successors noticed that Rodin created with light, shadow, quality and composition. Miracle, copying this part, only did not see that the masters were actually telling stories that revealed the human heart. They began to disdain storytelling paintings and sculptures, dismissing such works as 'literary stuff'. Everyone They swarmed into abstractions."
Jubal shrugged, "There's nothing wrong with abstract design—good for wallpaper or rugs. But art is the process of inspiring pity and fear. Modern artists are nothing more than pseudo-intellectual masturbation. Creative art is a Communication, by which artists move their audience. Brats who don't - or can't - do it will lose the public's attention. Ordinary people don't spend money on 'art' that doesn't move them. Even if If you really pay for it, it's just to take advantage of taxes and stuff like that."
"Jubbal, I never understood in the past, why can't I appreciate art? I thought there was something missing in me."
"Well, appreciation of art does require learning. But the artist must use a language that ordinary people can understand. And those clowns, most of them are not willing to use a language that you and I can learn at all; their purpose—if they had any. Obscurity is an excuse for incompetence. Would you call me an artist, Ben?"
"Huh? You've written a good one."
"Thanks. I try to avoid being called an 'artist' for the same reason I hate being called a 'doctor'; but I am an artist. Most of what I write is enough to be read... if You know what I'm trying to say, it's too much to read. But I'm an honest artist. I write to move the customer, to move him with pity and fear if possible...or at least to get him through a few days. A dreary hour. I never dress my work up in a language he doesn't understand, and I don't seek compliments from other writers for my 'skills', or anything like that. I just want the customer's Praise, want them to pay for it because I hit him. I don't want anything else. Support the arts - bullshit! Government funded artists are nothing but impotent whores! Damn you got me blah blah blah It’s been a long time. Fill up the wine quickly and tell me what’s on your mind.”
"Jubbal, I'm not happy."
"What kind of news is this?"
"I've got a fresh batch of trouble." Ben frowned. "I don't even know if I want to talk about it."
"Then listen to my troubles."
"Are you in trouble too? Jubal, I thought you were the only one in the world who was so smart that he didn't have any troubles."
"Well, looks like I'll have to tell you about my married life sometime. Yes, I've had trouble too. Duke's gone—maybe you already know?"
"I know."
"Larry's a good gardener, but there's so many little electrical appliances in this log house that they're messed up now. It's hard to find a good mechanic, and none of them fit into the family. I've got to rely on the repairman to— —Every time someone comes here is a harassment, they are all thieves in their hearts, and most of them cut their hands with screwdrivers. Unfortunately, I am also the same, so I have to let them manipulate me.”
"My heart is broken."
"Don't mock me. Mechanics and gardeners are just a matter of convenience; secretaries are necessary. As for my secretaries, two are pregnant and one is getting married."
Caxton was dumbfounded.Jubal snarled, "Oh, I'm not making up a story. They're sure to be pissed now because I dragged you straight up the stairs and didn't give them a chance to show off. So, when they tell you later , must show a surprised look, don't forget."
"Well, which one is going to marry?"
"Isn't that obvious? The happy man is that smooth-talking fellow from the Great Desert, our venerable water brother Mahmad the Drunkard. I told him that whenever he comes to America from now on, he must live here. Then The bastard grinned and said I invited him, long ago." Jubal snorted, "It wouldn't be bad if he came to live, maybe I can make her do some more work for me Woolen cloth."
"Very likely. She likes to work. Are the other two pregnant?"
"My belly is higher than a kite, and they all say I'm going to give birth at home. I'm reviewing now, picking up the obstetrics set again. The baby will definitely mess up my work habits! But why do you Are you sure that the one with the big belly is not the bride?"
"Huh? I just think alcoholics are more reserved...or more careful."
"Drunkards don't have a say. Ben, I've been studying this for years, trying to figure out what's going on in their narrow-mindedness, and I've only figured out one thing: Girls take what they want. Men don't." We have no choice but to cooperate with force majeure."
"Well, which one is neither married nor pregnant? Miriam or Anne?"
"Wait, I didn't say the bride was pregnant...and you seemed to think that Dorcas was the bride-to-be. But it was Miriam who learned Arabic."
"What? What a blind baboon I am!"
"Obviously you are."
"Ke Miriam keeps quarreling with drunks—"
"They actually trusted you with a column! Have you ever seen a group of sixth graders?"
"Yeah, but—Dorcas has done everything with the drunkard, except for giving him a belly dance."
"Dorcas is always like that. When Miriam shows you the ring--as big as the fabled Persian monster's egg, and almost as rare as it is--don't forget to be surprised. To let Make your expressions more realistic, and I will never tell you which two have big bellies. Just remember, they are very happy... I will give you a letter now, lest you mistakenly think that they feel like you' Oops'. They didn't think so, and they didn't feel bad. They were all smug." Jubal sighed, "I'm too old to bear the sound of little feet flopping on the floor. They stayed, and I don't want to lose these perfect secretaries - and the children I love for any reason. Since Jill put Mike down that time, the house has become more and more chaotic every day. I don't blame her... ...I don't think you will either."
"No, but—Jubbal, you seem to think Jill started Mike's fun?"
"Huh?" Jubal was taken aback, "Who else could it be?"
"In your own words, 'Mind other people's business'. But I was just like you, guessing rashly, and Jill made it clear to me at the time. As far as I understand, who first It was more or less a matter of luck."
"Mm... yes. I believe so."
"Anyway, that's how Jill sees it. She thinks it's just luck for Mike—that he's seduced, or seduced, by just the right person to give him his first lessons. That's kind of a hint, too, if you know Jill's How did your mind go?"
"Hell, I haven't even figured out my own brain yet. As for Jill, no matter how dazed she is with love, I never expected her to preach. So, unfortunately, I don't know her brain." How did it turn around?"
"She didn't preach much—we'll talk about that later. Jubal, do you see anything from the calendar?"
"Uh?"
"You think Mike did it—both of them. Just as he comes home on the right day."
Jubal said cautiously, "Ben, I didn't imply that."
"Huh, you don't? You say they're 'smug.' I know what that damn Superman does to women."
"Wait, boy—he's our water brother."
Ben doesn't give an inch: "I know—and I love him. But because I love him, I understand why they are so proud."
Jubal stared at his glass, "Ben, in my opinion, your name is more likely to appear on the list than Mike's."
"Jubbal, you're crazy!"
"Take it easy. All the billions of names of God testify, 'Mind your own business' I absolutely believe, but I'm not blind or deaf. I can still spot an orchestra marching around the house. You're in my I lived many nights under the roof of my house. Did you ever sleep by yourself?"
"What, you rascal! Well, I slept alone the first night here."
"Dorcas must be anorexic. Wait, you were sedated that night—that doesn't count. Any more?"
"Your question is totally irrelevant and speculative, and I don't bother to answer it."
"Well said. I draw your attention to the fact that the new bedroom is placed as far away as possible from mine. No soundproofing of the room can be entirely expected."
"Jubal, to be honest, shouldn't your own name be ranked before mine?"
"what?"
"Not to mention Larry and Duke. Jubal, if you want to talk about tenderness, I'm afraid you're the only one who can talk about tenderness, except for the sultan's harem. Everyone says so. Don't get me wrong—they're jealous of you. But in their eyes Li, you are definitely a perverted old pervert."
Jubal tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Ben, I don't mind if young people treat me the same way, but in this case, I insist that my age be respected."
"Sorry," said Ben stiffly, "I thought you wouldn't mind being blunt if you could talk about my sex life."
"No, no, Ben!—you're mistaken. What I want is for the girls to respect me—in this matter."
"Oh--"
"I'm, as you say, old—pretty old. In private, I'm glad to tell you that I'm still lustful at heart. But lust can't control me. Believe me, those pastimes I've had enough of it, no need to repeat it. I'd rather have dignity than lust. Ben, a man my age, looks like the worst slum. I can sleep with young girls--maybe Make her belly bigger and get her approval. It's not impossible, but there are only three ways: money... or a will equivalent to money, community property, etc... or - let me ask you a question first : Among those four girls, can you imagine which one would sleep with a man for these two reasons?"
"No. None of them will."
"Thank you, sir. I only deal with ladies; glad you know that. The third motive is especially feminine. Sometimes a sweet young girl fucks an old scum because she likes him and feels sorry for him , to make him happy. Is that the case here?"
"Uh...Jubbal, well, any of them could be."
"I think so too. But while that reason is enough for the ladies, it is not enough for me. I have my dignity, sir. So please cross my name off the list."
Caxton grinned. "Well, you stubborn old fool. I hope I won't be so hard to seduce when I'm your age."
Jubal smiled and said, "It's better to resist the temptation than to be disappointed. Now look at Larry and Duke. I don't know, and I don't care. Whoever comes here, I've made it very clear, this is home, not Sweatshops are not brothels either... being a home combines anarchism and tyranny without an iota of democracy. Any well functioning home is like that. That is, unless I order them to, they are completely Make up your own mind. My orders are non-negotiable, but my despotism never extends to love life. The private lives of these children are largely private. At least—” Jubal smiled dejectedly, “—at least That's how it was before Martian's influence flooded. Maybe Duke and Larry—dragged the girls into the woods when they got a chance. I never heard a scream, though."
"So you think it's Mike."
Jubal grimaced, "That's right. Exactly. Like I said, those girls were elated, happy... I'm not broke, and Mike's money is inexhaustible. Their kids won't do anything No. But, Ben, it's Mike I'm worried about."
"Me too, Jubal."
"Still worried about Jill."
"Well... Jubal, Jill isn't the problem. Mike is the problem."
"Damn it, why can't that kid come home, why does he have to preach that goddamn sermon from the pulpit?"
"Hmm... Jubal, that's not what he's doing," Ben added. "I just came from there."
"Eh? Why didn't you say it earlier?"
Ben sighed, "You start talking about art, then you grumble and moan, and then gossip again."
"Okay... it's your turn to speak."
"I went to Cape Town for a meeting and I stopped by to see them on my way back. What I saw blew my mind - so I went back to the office and then I came up here. Jubal, you can't get along with Douglas In total, think of a way to stop them messing around?"
Jubal shook his head. "It's Mike's business how he wants to live his life."
"You didn't see what I saw, or you wouldn't say that."
"Me? Ha! Taking a step back, I can't interfere. Douglas can't do anything either."
"Jubbal, whatever you decide to do with his money, Mike will take it. Maybe he doesn't understand money at all."
"Ah, he sees it! Ben, Mike just wrote his will and sent me to poke holes in it. I've never seen such a smart document in my life. He knew his heirs wouldn't need that much money, so he took part of it. Come out to protect other properties. I don’t know how he found out, but he knows that he is an illegitimate child, and he knows that some people may claim to have inheritance rights to his legal parents and natural parents. He left countless properties to these people in his will Trap, he also reserved such a hand for the heirs of all members of the 'Emissary'. Anyone who at first glance has a right to inherit, he is willing to settle out of court-but if the other party insists on going to court, it will almost have to overthrow the government to destroy His will. Just look at the will and you'll see that he knows everything about bonds and assets and I can't find any loopholes." (And, thought Jubal, about you That part is just as impeccable, my bro!) "So don't tell me I can play around with his money!"
Ben was depressed. "I wish you could."
"I don't want to. But it wouldn't help if we could. Mike hasn't withdrawn a dollar from the account for almost a year. Douglas told me about it. He wrote several letters to Mike, and Mike None of them came back."
"No withdrawals? Jubal, he spent a lot of money."
"Maybe it's a church that makes a lot of money."
"That's where the fault lies. It's not really a church."
"Then what is it?"
"Well, it's mainly a language school."
"what?"
"A school that teaches Martian language."
“好吧，那样的话，我希望迈克别管它叫教会。”
“说不定它真是个教会，至少符合法律上的定义。”
“听着，本，溜冰场也可以当教堂——只要哪个教派宣称敬礼神明的时候溜冰是必不可少的，或者只说溜冰能发挥令人满意的功效，这就够了。你能以歌声颂扬上帝的荣耀，用溜冰也能达到同样的目的。马来西亚有好些神庙，在外人看来什么都算不上，只不过是给蛇住的地方……可是联邦最高法院把它们也判为'教会'，让它们和我们自己的教派享受同样的保护。”
“嗯，迈克也养蛇。朱巴尔，难道说他们可以爱怎么就怎么？”
“呣……这是个悬而未决的问题。一般而言，教会不能为算命、招魂收费——但它可以接受供奉，而且让'供奉'成为事实上的费用。用人献祭也是非法的，但在这个星球的好些地方仍旧存在……没准儿这片过去的就有。要想玩儿什么通常会被镇压的把戏，唯一的办法就是躲进隐秘的圣所，把异教徒拒之门外。怎么了，本？迈克干了什么有可能让他坐牢的事吗？”
“唔，大概没有。”
“好吧，只要他当心——几乎任何事情都能蒙混过关，弗斯特教徒已经向大家证明了这一点。跟他们相比，犯的那点子事根本不在话下。”
“迈克还真从弗斯特教照搬了不少东西。这也是我担心的原因之一。”
“说了半天，你担心的究竟是什么？”
“唔，朱巴尔，这可是'水兄弟'之间的事儿。”
“我是不是该准备一颗空牙，在里头填满毒药？”
“唔，核心成员应该有自主解体的本事，用不着毒药。”
“我从没达到那种境界，本。不过我知道不少办法，可以很容易地实施这个唯一的终极抵抗。你尽管说吧。”
“朱巴尔，我刚才跟你说迈克养蛇。我说的既是真蛇，也是比喻——那地方活脱脱一个蛇窝。简直有病。迈克的神庙很大，一个公开集会的大礼堂，几个为特别邀请的聚会准备的小会堂，许多更小些的房间——还有生活区，供生活起居的套间。吉尔发了封无线电报给我，让我在背巷的私人通道下车。生活区在大礼堂顶上，要多隐蔽有多隐蔽。简直是在城里隐居起来了。”
朱巴尔点点头，“无论你的行为合不合法，好管闲事的邻居总是很讨嫌的。”
“而迈克那儿确实太需要隐私了。我必须得通过外层的几扇大门——我猜还被扫描过，不过没发现扫描器。又有两扇自动门——然后就上了升降管。朱巴尔，不是什么普通的升降管。有个看不见的家伙在操纵，乘客自己根本没法控制。感觉也和一般的升降管不一样。”
“我这辈子从没用过那种玩意儿，今后也不会碰。”朱巴尔坚定地说。
“迈克那个你会喜欢的。我往上飘的时候轻盈得就跟片羽毛似的。
“本，我不信任机械。它咬人。”朱巴尔又补充道，“不过，迈克的母亲就是最伟大的工程师之一，而他父亲——亲生父亲——也是个不错的工程师，甚至可能比'不错'更好些。要是迈克改进了升降管，让它们终于配得上给人使用了，那也没什么好大惊小怪的。”
“也是。我上了顶层，落地的时候既不用抓着什么东西也没使安全网。说真的，压根儿就没瞧见那些东西。又经过更多自动门，最后走进一间偌大的起居室。家具布置得很古怪，又挺朴素。朱巴尔，人家竟然还说你这儿怪里怪气的呢。”
“无稽之谈！简简单单、舒舒服服，没别的。”
“好吧，相比之下，你家活像个女子学校，古板透顶。我都还没站稳，就看到了头一件不可思议的事儿。一个漂亮姑娘，从下巴到脚趾头文了个遍——而且身上连点布片儿都没有。见鬼，她全身上下都文满了。简直难以置信！”
“你是个大城市出来的乡巴佬，本。我过去就认识一位文身女士。很好的姑娘。”
“唔……”本承认，“那姑娘倒也挺好，一旦你适应了——不止要适应图形附件，还要适应她经常随身带着的那条蛇。”
“我刚才还在想，没准儿咱们说的是同一个人呢。浑身文遍的女人是很稀罕的。不过，我三十年前认识的那位女士和大多数俗人一样怕蛇。我本人倒很喜欢蛇……真希望能会会你的朋友。”
“你去迈克那儿就能见到她。她好像是他的总管之类。帕特丽夏——但大家都叫'帕特'，或者'帕提'。”
“哦，想起来了！吉尔很敬重她，不过从没提过她有文身。”
“从年纪上看，她倒够当你的朋友。刚才我叫她'漂亮姑娘'，那是第一印象。看上去她也就二十来岁；可据她说她最大的孩子正好有那么大。反正，她快步迎上来，脸上笑容绽放，搂着我的脖子吻了我，'你是本。欢迎，兄弟！我献给你水。'
“朱巴尔，我在新闻这行混了好多年，可以说什么都见识过了，但还从没让个只穿着文身的陌生姑娘吻过呢。我尴尬极了。”
“可怜的本。”
“该死，你要是我也会尴尬的。”
“不。别忘了，我认识一位文身女士。她们觉得文身就是衣服。至少我的朋友贞子是这么看的。她是日本人。当然，日本人和我们不一样，他们对身体的自我意识没那么强烈。”
“嗯，”本回答道，“帕特没什么身体意识——她只有文身意识。她希望死后被填充起来做成标本，就那么赤裸裸的，以此向乔治致敬。”
“'乔治'？”
“抱歉。她丈夫。已经上天堂了，谢天谢地……不过帕特说起他来就好像他不过是偷空喝杯啤酒去了似的。不过，总的来说，帕特的确是位淑女……而且她也没让我尴尬多久——”
Notes:
Notes: