Chapter 10 Chapter two

We arrived in Paris towards the end of summer.We entered the city from the south and walked on a wide and pleasant highway with rows of old trees on the side of the road, and it was still raining lightly, which was very pleasant.A gust of wind blows, and the dead leaves are flying around us.The night of the escape from Rome seemed like a dream now.We have gone through spring and summer and become much stronger. The gray towers in the city of Paris seem to herald a bright future for us. However, I suspect that we are deceiving ourselves. Just imagine, one is a troubled prince with only a blur in front of him, and the other is an old watchman whose youth has passed away. What hope is there in this world?It is a city without the brightness of Rome.Even in the depths of winter in Rome, the sun is still shining and the sky is clear.Paris, however, seems to be covered by dark clouds forever, the buildings and the surrounding environment are as dark, even the city walls are gray, without any luster.The city gate is quite large, and a small sentinel with a gloomy face is lying listlessly beside it, ignoring us.I looked at him suspiciously, and he shook his head.

"'Go in, lookout." "No check check?" "Haven't you heard? Since six days ago, all cities can be entered at will. This is the order of the invaders. Now the city gates are not closed at all, and half of the sentinels are out of work." "I thought the invaders were still searching for their enemies," I said, "like the nobles of old." "The checkpoint is elsewhere, and they don't need our sentries. Paris can come in as it pleases now. Come on, let's go." After we entered the city gate, I said, "Then why are you still here?"

"I've been here for forty years," said the sentinel, "where else can I go?" I sighed and told him I was as upset as he was.I entered Paris with the prince. "Five times I have entered Paris through the South Gate, each time in a palanquin, with an ugly man leading the way, and music playing in his throat. We headed towards the river, passing old buildings and monuments, to the palace of the King of Paris Go. At night, we sing and dance in the air on a Frisbee, watch trapeze performers perform ballet, and the aurora on the Eiffel Tower is specially demonstrated for us. Oh, and wine, the claret of Paris, women in beautiful evening dresses, they have big breasts, thighs It's so charming! It can be said that we are bathed in wine and watching people." He pointed forward hesitantly, "Is that the Eiffel Tower?"

"I think it's the remains of a climate control tower," I said. "The climate control tower is vertical. I think it's thick at the bottom and slender at the top. It's the same as the Eiffel Tower." "I don't think so," I said. "It's a big vertical column, at least as high as thirty men, and the top snapped off. Besides, the Eiffel Tower can't be that close to the South Gate, can it?" "That's true," said the Prince, muttering an obscenity. "That's the climate control tower. The eyes Bodo sold me aren't great, are they? I've been lying to myself, watching people, always lying to myself. Get a thinking helmet and see if the king of Paris has escaped gone."

I looked again at the broken column of the climate control tower, that magical device that brought endless disasters to our world in the Second Age.I tried to see through that smooth, oiled surface of marble, to see what wonders were entwined within it that had caused whole continents to sink into the sea, turning my mountainous home in the West into islands.I turned around, put on a public-thinking helmet, asked about the King of Paris, got the same answer as I expected, and then asked where we could stay. The prince said, "How is it?" "The king of Paris and his sons were all killed on the night of the alien invasion. His dynasty perished, his name was cancelled, and the palace was converted into a museum by the invaders. Other Paris nobles died and fled. .I'll find you a place where pilgrims live."

"No, take me to the meeting of historians." "You want to join that group now?" He said impatiently, "No, idiot! My friends are all gone, how can I live alone in a strange city? What can I say to a real pilgrim in a pilgrim's hotel? I want to talk to You are together. A historian seldom rejects a blind pilgrim." There is really nothing to do with him.I had to let him follow me to the Historian's Building. It took us almost a whole day to get to the Historian's Building, which took us almost half of Paris.Paris strikes me as chaotic.The arrival of the invaders has disrupted our social order, leaving many groups, sometimes even entire regiments, with nothing to do.I saw many lookouts, some struggling to drag the lookout car, and some like me, throwing off their burdens, but didn't know what else they could do with their hands.They looked sullen and preoccupied, and many had a glassy eye, evidently caused by drunkenness, for all discipline was now of no avail.Then there were the sentries, aimless and depressed, because there was nothing left for them to watch now.The appearance of the Earth Guardians also shows that the night the Earth fell, they must have been confused and frightened.Instead of the eunuchs and rulers' congregation, I saw a lot of out-of-job clowns, musicians, record-keepers, and other former court servants hanging out in the streets.And of course there are hordes of bored, brainless eunuchs who have nothing to do and their muscles have slackened a lot.Only the hawkers and wizards seem to be as busy as ever.

Intruders can be seen everywhere on the street.They go shopping in groups of three or five, with long limbs dangling almost to the knees, with thick eyelids, nostrils hidden in filter covers, and full lips that cannot be seen when they are closed.They were all dressed in dark green robes, probably military uniforms; some carried weapons, strange old-fashioned weapons that hung heavy on their backs, perhaps for display rather than self-defense.When they passed us, they appeared to be very leisurely, kindly conquerors, a little confident and proud, not at all worried that the defeated Earthlings would cause them any trouble.But the fact that they never act alone suggests that they are still wary.I don't hate them at all in my heart, even when they look at the old monuments of Paris with the proud eyes of victors, as if they belonged to them.However, the Roman prince, although everyone in his "eyes" is just like dark gray wooden sticks against a gray and white background, he still instinctively senses that an intruder is approaching, and will immediately pant with hostility .

There are also more tourists from extraterrestrials here than usual. Hundreds of aliens, some can breathe our air, some wear sealed spheres, and some wear pyramid-shaped box respirators or wear aids. Clothing that breathes.It's not surprising to encounter these strangers on Earth, but their numbers are truly surprising.They go everywhere, or get into the church of the ancients, or buy a shining model of the Eiffel Tower from a street corner vendor, or trembling slightly climb the steps on the high sidewalk, or peek at the houses of the residents, or take pictures, Exchange money with illegal money dealers, tease flyers and wizards, risk staying in hotels of earthlings, walk among sheep herds, visit various sights, as if our invaders have issued a message to the entire universe: welcome to ancient earth visit.Visit Earth where a new order has been established.

At least the beggars on Earth are well developed.Beggars from space receive extremely pitiful alms from aliens, but beggars from Earth are different.Except for ugly beggars, because it is not easy to see that they are earthlings.I just saw a few ugly people with my own eyes. After being rejected, they were very unhappy. They took out their anger on those beggars who were much luckier and knocked them to the ground. The tourists on the side quickly picked up their cameras and crackled. I kept taking pictures, and I was going to take it back and show it to my family, so that they would be happy too.

We made it to the Historian's Building just in time for dark. This is a majestic building in which the entire history of the earth is stored.Soaring into the sky, it stands on the south bank of the Sann, just opposite the equally imposing palace of the King of Paris.However, the palace of the abandoned king is an ancient building, a real ancient building, left over from the first era, rectangular and complex in structure, in the traditional Parisian architectural style, with gray stone walls and green metal roofs.The Historian's Building is a dazzling white shaft-shaped building. There are no windows on the surface to destroy the integrity of the wall. From the roof to the foundation, there is a golden metal circle, engraved with human historical records.The top half of the spiral is still blank.Because I was standing far away, I couldn't see a word.I don't know if the historians have taken the trouble to climb up and inscribe the story of this fall of the earth; I later learned that they haven't inscribed it.This story marks the end of the Second Age, leaving untold stories and a heavy heart.

Night began to fall.During the day, in the misty rain, Paris looks very dull and depressing, but at this time, it becomes extremely beautiful, like a lady who has just returned from her rebirth in Jerusalem, full of vitality and gorgeousness.The city lights are soft and dazzling, magically illuminating the old gray buildings, blurring their outlines, hiding their antique stains, making poetic places that were once ugly, and the heavy palace of the King of Paris A wonderland in the air.To the east, the spotlighted Eiffel Tower looms in the darkness like a giant skinny spider, yet graceful and alluring.The white Historian's Building also has an indescribable beauty. The spiral circle that records history seems to no longer go around the roof, but directly into people's hearts.At this time, the flying people in Paris moved around. They danced gracefully in the air ballet leisurely, with their transparent wings spread wide, reflecting the light from the ground.How free they are!They are the lucky ones produced by genetic mutations on the earth, and the requirement of their group is to let them enjoy the fun of life to the fullest!They are like round and round moons, spreading beauty to the world.They were joined by intruders, who somehow flew up, their long arms clinging to their bodies.I noticed that the fliers did not at all resent having other people dance with them, but welcomed them warmly and made way for them during the flight. In the farther background of the sky, there are two artificial moons hanging, the moonlight is bright, sliding from the west to the east.Light swirls in mid-air in a regular pattern, which I guess is a usual Parisian form of entertainment; cheerful music is playing from speakers suspended below the clouds.I don't know where there was a girl's laughter, and there was also a smell of wine.Paris has been conquered and is still singing and dancing like this. I really don't know what it will be like before. "Are we in front of the Historian Building?" Prince Enrique asked tentatively. "Yes," I replied, "a white building." "I know what it looks like, idiot! But now—I can't see very well when it's dark—is that the building?" "You mean the palace of the King of Paris, Your Majesty." "That's over here." "right." "Then why don't we go in?" "I'm watching Paris at night," I said, "I've never seen such a beautiful night view. Rome is also beautiful, but that's not the same.If Rome is the emperor, Paris is the prostitute. " "Poetry again, you old wretch!" "I feel like I'm young enough to dance in the street. The city is singing to me." "Come on, let's go. We've come here for the historian, let him sing to you later." I sighed and led him towards the entrance of the building.We passed a dark, stone-paved sidewalk, and immediately there were lampposts hitting us, scanning and recording.There was a huge ebony door, five men wide and ten tall, which I could tell was only a projection, for as we approached I felt the depth and saw the arched interior and knew it was but a false door.When I walked through this door, I felt faintly warm and smelled a strange fragrance. Inside was a vast reception room, as forbidding as the sumptuous chambers of Roman princes.Everything was white, and the light emanating from within the stone made what was within shine.There is a heavy door on the left and right sides, leading directly to the side room.Even though it was night, there were still many people gathered around the Retriever on the back wall of the reception room, with monitors and thinking helmets allowing them to communicate with the Master Control File of the Guild of Historians.Interestingly, the people who come here to consult the history of the earth are invaders. Our footsteps sounded on the tiled floor as we passed. I didn't see any historians, so I went to a retriever, put on the thinking helmet, and told the embalmed brain connected to it, I wanted Basil the historian, I met him in Rome. "What's your business with him?" "I brought him the shawl, and asked me to look after it for a while when he left Rome." "The historian Basil has returned to Rome to do research with the approval of the conqueror. I can find another historian to receive his shawl." We'll have to wait.We stood behind the reception room, and I watched the intruders, who had so much to learn.Presently a stocky, stern-faced man, younger than me but not young, came in, with a formal shawl over his broad shoulders. "I am Eligro the Historian," he said, pompously. "I have brought Basil's shawl." "Come on, follow me." Eligro had just emerged from an inconspicuous spot on the wall where a skateboard had pivoted.Now he pushed the skateboard away again and quickly descended into a tunnel.I called to him to tell him that my companion was blind and couldn't keep up with him, and he stopped, visibly impatient, with his downturned lips drawn tight, and his fingers digging into his thick black curly beard.After we caught up with him, he slowed down.We walked down a long hallway and ended up in his apartment at the top of the building. The light in the room is very dark, but there are enough auxiliary equipment for learning such as monitors, thinking helmets, printers, and speakers.On the wall hung a purplish-black object, apparently alive, with rhythmic ripples at the folds of its edges.The light from the three floats is not bright enough. "Shawl," he said. I took the shawl out of my pocket.In the early days of the fall of the earth, I wore it for a few days, which is ridiculous.However, Basil left it when he ran away in the street, and I didn't snatch it, and he didn't care about losing the shawl at all. Fortunately, I took it off quickly, because a man in the lookout costume A person wearing a historian's shawl is prone to misunderstanding.Eligro snatched the shawl with a whoosh, unfolded it and examined it carefully, as if looking for lice. _ "How did you get this shawl?" "When the aliens started to invade, I met Basil on the street. He was running in a hurry. I tried to stop him, but he ran away. I only grabbed his cape." "He said something different." "I'm sorry if I hurt his reputation," I said. "Anyway, you sent back the shawl. I'll send word to Rome tonight. Do you hope for anything in return? " "yes." Eligro was very upset and said, "What do you want?" "Can be apprenticed to the Historians' Guild." He was surprised. "You have a membership." "At present, there are no watchers. What else can I look out for? I have broken my oath." "Perhaps. But you are too old to try a new club." "Not too old." "The work of our group is very difficult." "I am willing to work hard, and I am eager to learn. Although I am old, a curiosity has begun to sprout inside me." "Like your friends, join the Pilgrims and travel the world." "I've traveled enough, now I want to join the Historians Association and study history." "You can go down and enter information. Our retriever is open to you, watch out." "That's different. Take me." "You can become an apprentice indexer," Eligro suggested. "The nature of the job is the same, but the requirements are not so high." "I'm going to be an apprentice here." Eligro sighed heavily.The ten fingers of his hands form a steeple shape, his head is lowered, and his lips are clenched tightly. It seems that this is his unique way of thinking.At this time, a door inside opened, and a female historian came out, holding a turquoise music box.After taking four steps, she stopped, obviously not expecting Eligro to have a visitor. She nodded apologetically and said, "I'll be back later." "Don't go," shouted Eligro, and then to me and the prince: "My wife, Omeen the historian." Then to his wife: "They have just come from Rome, to return Baz The lookout wants to apprentice with our regiment. What do you suggest?" Omeen frowned.She put the music box into a black crystal bottle, accidentally touched the switch, the music box immediately flashed a dozen times, and Omeen quickly closed it.She looked at me, and I looked at her.Compared with her middle-aged husband, Omeen is much younger and still exudes a youthful atmosphere, but it can be seen that she is very mature and sophisticated.I thought maybe she had been to Jerusalem and had been rejuvenated by rebirth, and if that was the case, it would be odd that her husband didn't, unless he really liked his old face.She was very pretty, with a square face, high forehead, high cheekbones, wide, voluptuous lips, and a pointed chin.Her dark hair contrasted sharply with her pale skin.This skin color is rare, but I later learned that it was common in ancient times, because of the different parenting methods at that time.My sweet little fly, Afluela, has the same black and white hair and complexion, but that's where the resemblance ends, because Afluela is too weak, and Omeen is all about strength.She was slender-necked, and well-figured, with ample breasts, strong legs, and elegant manners. She looked at us from beginning to end, and finally I could no longer face her big, black eyes.Finally, she said, "Does the Watcher think he's qualified to be a member of our regiment?" A question obviously anyone in the room could answer.I hesitated for a while, and so did Eligro, and the prince replied in an orderly tone: "The watchman is qualified to join your group." "Who are you?" Omeen asked. The prince immediately changed his tone to a gentle one. "I am an unfortunate blind pilgrim, Madame, who walked from Rome with this man. If you ask me to speak, you would do better to accept his request." Eligro said, "What about you? What are your plans?" "I only wish to take refuge here," said the prince. "I am tired after wandering so long, and I have much to think about. Perhaps I can help you. I do not wish to part from my companions." .” Omeen said to me: "We will discuss your case. If it is agreed, you will have to take the test. I will be your sponsor." "Omeen!" Eligro blurted out, he was too surprised. She smiled at us calmly. A family quarrel was about to break out, but the tables turned and the two historians became very friendly and offered us juices, drinks and a night's stay.We ate alone in another room.They called in some historians to discuss my application.The Prince was so excited that he swallowed his food hastily, poured another bottle of wine, fumbled about for his cutlery, and put his fingers over and over his gray metal eyes as if to tickle them. Finally, he said in a low voice and hurriedly: "Describe that woman to me." I described it to him in detail and vividly, showing him as vivid a picture as I could. "You said, she is beautiful?" "I believe so. You need to know that people at my age should think rationally and not speak impulsively." "She has a beautiful voice," said the Prince. "She has power, like a queen. She must be very beautiful. It would be absurd if her appearance did not match her voice." "She is," I said emphatically, "a married woman, and she is so friendly to us. I recalled that day in Rome, when the prince came out of the palace in a palanquin, found Afluela, and ordered her Go over, and snatch her into a palanquin to enjoy. A ruler may treat a lowly person like this, but a pilgrim cannot. I can't help but be afraid of Prince Enrique's crooked ideas. He rubbed his eyes again , the muscles on his face twitched. "Promise you won't trouble her," I said. The corner of his mouth twitched suddenly, he must have wanted to scold me harshly, but he held back.He said with difficulty: "You misunderstood me, old man, I will abide by the rules here and be a good man. How about some more wine?" I took a bottle of wine from the alcove.It's a strong red wine, not like Roman wine, golden yellow.I poured wine, drank it with the prince, and drank it up in a while.I held the bottle, twisted it, and with a bang, the bottle disappeared like a bubble.Omeen came in later and had already changed his clothes.Where previously she had worn a dark afternoon dress of rough texture, now she wore a scarlet smock knotted at the breast.This way I could see the curves of her body clearly, and what surprised me even more was that she intentionally exposed her navel.Her belly is so smooth, it can't help but make people imagine, and even I am a little tempted. She said happily: "Under my guarantee, they have approved your application and will take the test tonight. If you pass the test, you will definitely be able to become one of us." She blinked slyly, " My husband, as you probably know, is very unhappy, but don't be afraid, it doesn't work if he is unhappy. Come with me, you two." She stretched out her hands and took mine and the prince's, her fingers were cold.I was thrilled, amazed at the youthful impulse rising within me.This is not the effect of the potion in the regeneration chamber in Jerusalem. "Come on," Omeen said, leading us to the examination place.