sk.thetalisman-第43部分

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r　energy　and　e　up　with　stuff　we've　never　even　thought　of；　Phil。　And　we　end　up　looking　generous；　which　we　are…but　which　also　doesn't　hurt　us。'　He　would　be　frowning　forward；　the　palms　of　his　hands　pressed　together。　'Of　course　I　don't　have　a　total　window　on　this　situation；　you　know　that；　but　I　think　the　synergy　alone　is　worth　the　price　of　admission；　to　tell　you　the　truth。　But　Phil…can　you　imagine　how　much　fucking　clout　we'd　swing　if　we　gave　them　electricity？　If　we　got　modern　weapons　to　the　right　guys　over　there？　Do　you　have　any　idea？　I　think　it'd　be　awesome。　Awesome。'　The　damp；　squashy　sound　of　his　clapping　hands。　'I　don't　want　to　catch　you　unprepared　or　anything；　but　I　thought　it　might　be　time　for　us　to　think　along　those　lines…to　think；　Territories…wise；　about　increasing　our　involvement。'　
　　Phil　Sawyer　still　said　nothing。　Uncle　Morgan　slapped　his　hands　together　again。　Finally　Phil　Sawyer　said；　in　a　nonmittal　voice；　'You　want　to　think　about　increasing　our　involvement。'
　　'I　think　it's　the　way　to　go。　And　I　can　give　you　chapter　and　verse；　Phil；　but　I　shouldn't　have　to。　You　can　probably　remember　as　well　I　can　what　it　was　like　before　we　started　going　there　together。　Hey；　maybe　we　could　have　made　it　all　on　our　own；　and　maybe　we　would　have；　but　as　for　me；　I'm　grateful　not　to　be　representing　a　couple　of　broken…down　strippers　and　Little　Timmy　Tiptoe　anymore。'
　　'Hold　on；'　Jack's　father　said。
　　'Airplanes；'　Uncle　Morgan　said。　'Think　airplanes。'
　　'Hold　on；　hold　on　there；　Morgan；　I　have　a　lot　of　ideas　that　apparently　have　yet　to　occur　to　you。'
　　'I'm　always　ready　for　new　ideas；'　Morgan　said；　and　his　voice　was　smoky　again。
　　'Okay。　I　think　we　have　to　be　careful　about　what　we　do　over　there；　partner。　I　think　anything　major…any　real　changes　we　bring　about…just　might　turn　around　and　bite　our　asses　back　here。　Everything　has　consequences；　and　some　of　those　consequences　might　be　on　the　unfortable　side。'
　　'Like　what？'　Uncle　Morgan　asked。
　　'Like　war。'
　　'That's　nuts；　Phil。　We've　never　seen　anything　。　。　。　unless　you　mean　Bledsoe　。　。　。　'
　　'I　do　mean　Bledsoe。　Was　that　a　coincidence？'　
　　Bledsoe？　Jack　wondered。　He　had　heard　the　name　before；　but　it　was　vague。
　　'Well；　that's　a　long　way　from　war；　to　put　it　mildly；　and　I　don't　concede　the　connection　anyhow。'
　　'All　right。　Do　you　remember　hearing　about　how　a　Stranger　assassinated　the　old　King　over　there…a　long　time　ago？　You　ever　hear　about　that？'
　　'Yeah；　I　suppose；'　Uncle　Morgan　said；　and　Jack　heard　again　the　falseness　in　his　voice。
　　His　father's　chair　squeaked…he　was　taking　his　feet　off　his　desk；　leaning　forward。　'The　assassination　touched　off　a　minor　war　over　there。　The　followers　of　the　old　King　had　to　put　down　a　rebellion　led　by　a　couple　of　disgruntled　nobles。　These　guys　saw　their　chance　to　take　over　and　run　things…seize　lands；　impound　property；　throw　their　enemies　in　jail；　make　themselves　rich。'
　　'Hey；　be　fair；'　Morgan　broke　in。　'I　heard　about　this　stuff；　too。　They　also　wanted　to　bring　some　kind　of　political　order　to　a　crazy　inefficient　system…sometimes　you　have　to　be　tough；　starting　out。　I　can　see　that。'
　　'And　it's　not　for　us　to　make　judgments　about　their　politics；　I　agree。　But　here's　my　point。　That　little　war　over　there　lasted　about　three　weeks。　When　it　was　over；　maybe　a　hundred　people　had　been　killed。　Fewer；　probably。　Did　anyone　ever　tell　you　when　that　war　began？　What　year　it　was？　What　day？'
　　'No；'　Uncle　Morgan　muttered　in　a　sulky　voice。
　　'It　was　the　first　of　September；　1939。　Over　here；　it　was　the　day　Germany　invaded　Poland。'　His　father　stopped　talking；　and　Jacky；　clutching　his　black　toy　taxi　behind　the　couch；　yawned　silently　but　hugely。
　　'That's　screwball；'　Uncle　Morgan　finally　said。　'Their　war　started　ours？　Do　you　really　believe　that？'
　　'I　do　believe　that；'　Jack's　father　said。　'I　believe　a　three…week　squabble　over　there　in　some　way　sparked　off　a　war　here　that　lasted　six　years　and　killed　millions　of　people。　Yes。'
　　'Well　。　。　。　'　Uncle　Morgan　said；　and　Jack　could　see　him　beginning　to　huff　and　blow。
　　'There's　more。　I've　talked　to　lots　of　people　over　there　about　this；　and　the　feeling　I　get　is　that　the　stranger　who　assassinated　the　King　was　a　real　Stranger；　if　you　see　what　I　mean。　Those　who　saw　him　got　the　feeling　that　he　was　unfortable　with　Territories　clothes。　He　acted　like　he　was　unsure　of　local　customs…he　didn't　understand　the　money　right　away。'
　　'Ah。'
　　'Yes。　If　they　hadn't　torn　him　to　pieces　right　after　he　stuck　a　knife　into　the　King；　we　could　be　sure　about　this；　but　I'm　sure　anyhow　that　he　was…'
　　'Like　us。'
　　'Like　us。　That's　right。　A　visitor。　Morgan；　I　don't　think　we　can　mess　around　too　much　over　there。　Because　we　simply　don't　know　what　the　effects　will　be。　To　tell　you　the　truth；　I　think　we're　affected　all　the　time　by　things　that　go　on　in　the　Territories。　And　should　I　tell　you　another　crazy　thing？'
　　'Why　not？'　Sloat　answered。
　　'That's　not　the　only　other　world　out　there。'
　　　
　　　3
　　
　　'Bullshit；'　Sloat　said。
　　'I　mean　it。　I've　had　the　feeling；　once　or　twice　when　I　was　there；　that　I　was　near　to　somewhere　else…the　Territories'　Territories。'
　　Yes；　Jack　thought；　that's　right；　it　has　to　be；　the　Daydreams'　Daydreams；　someplace　even　more　beautiful；　and　on　the　other　side　of　that　is　the　Daydreams'　Daydreams'　Daydreams；　and　on　the　other　side　of　that　is　another　place；　another　world　nicer　still　He　realized　for　the　first　time　that　he　had　bee　very　sleepy。
　　The　Daydreams'　Daydreams
　　And　then　he　was　almost　immediately　asleep；　the　heavy　little　taxi　in　his　lap；　his　whole　body　simultaneously　weighty　with　sleep；　anchored　to　the　strip　of　wooden　floor；　and　so　blissfully　light。
　　The　conversation　must　have　continued…there　must　have　been　much　that　Jacky　missed。　He　rose　and　fell；　heavy　and　light；　through　the　second　whole　side　of　Daddy　Plays　the　Horn；　and　during　that　time　Morgan　Sloat　must　at　first　have　argued…gently；　but　with　what　squeezings　of　his　fists；　what　contortions　of　his　forehead！…for　his　plan；　then　he　must　have　allowed　himself　to　seem　persuadable；　then　finally　persuaded　by　his　partner's　doubts。　At　the　end　of　this　conversation；　which　returned　to　the　twelve…year…old　Jacky　Sawyer　in　the　dangerous　borderland　between　Oatley；　New　York；　and　a　nameless　Territories　village；　Morgan　Sloat　had　allowed　himself　to　seem　not　only　persuaded　but　positively　grateful　for　the　lessons。　When　Jack　woke　up；　the　first　thing　he　heard　was　his　father　asking；　'Hey；　did　Jack　disappear　or　something？'　and　the　second　thing　was　Uncle　Morgan　saying；　'Hell；　I　guess　you're　right；　Phil。　You　have　a　way　of　seeing　right　to　the　heart　of　things；　you're　great　the　way　you　do　that。'
　　'Where　the　hell　is　Jack？'　his　father　said；　and　Jack　stirred　behind　the　couch；　really　waking　up　now。　The　black　taxi　thudded　to　the　floor。
　　'Aha；'　Uncle　Morgan　said。　'Little　pitchers　and　big　ears；　peut…être？'
　　'You　behind　there；　kiddo？'　his　father　said。　Noises　of　chairs　pushing　back　across　the　wooden　floor；　of　men　standing　up。
　　He　said；　'Oooh；'　and　slowly　lifted　the　taxi　back　into　his　lap。　His　legs　felt　stiff　and　unfortable…when　he　stood；　they　would　tingle。
　　His　father　laughed。　Footsteps　came　toward　him。　Morgan　Sloat's　red；　puffy　face　appeared　over　the　top　of　the　couch。　Jack　yawned　and　pushed　his　knees　into　the　back　of　the　couch。　His　father's　face　appeared　beside　Sloat's。　His　father　was　smiling。　For　a　moment；　both　of　those　grown…up　adult　male　heads　seemed　to　be　floating　over　the　top　of　the　couch。　'Let's　move　on　home；　sleepyhead；'　his　father　said。　When　the　boy　looked　into　Uncle　Morgan's　face；　he　saw　calculation　sink　into　his　skin；　slide　underneath　his　jolly…fat…man's　cheeks　like　a　snake　beneath　a　rock。　He　looked　like　Richard　Sloat's　daddy　again；　like　good　old　Uncle　Morgan　who　always　gave　spectacular　Christmas　and　birthday　presents；　like　good　old　sweaty　Uncle　Morgan；　so　easy　not　to　notice。　But　what　had　he　looked　like　before？　Like　a　human　earthquake；　like　a　man　crumbling　apart　over　the　fault…line　behind　his　eyes；　like　something　all　wound　up　and　waiting　to　explode
　　'How　about　a　little　ice　cream　on　the　way　home；　Jack？'　Uncle　Morgan　said　to　him。　'That　sound　good　to　you？'
　　'Uh；'　Jack　said。
　　'Yeah；　we　can　stop　off　at　that　place　in　the　lobby；'　his　father　said。
　　'Yummy…yummy…yum；'　Uncle　Morgan　said。　'Now　we're　really　talking　about　synergy；'　and　smiled　at　Jack　once　more。
　　
　　This　happened　when　he　was　six；　and　in　the　midst　of　his　weightless　tumble　through　limbo；　it　happened　again…the　horrible　purple　taste　of　Speedy's　juice　backed　up　into　his　mouth；　into　the　passages　behind　his　nose；　and　all　of　that　languid　afternoon　of　six　years　before　replayed　itself　out　in　his　mind。　He　saw　it　just　as　if　the　magic　juice　brought　total　recall；　and　so　speedily　that　he　lived　through　that　afternoon　in　the　same　few　seconds　which　told　him　that　this　time　the　magic　juice　really　was　going　to　make　him　vomit。
　　Uncle　Morgan's　eyes　smoking；　and　inside　Jack；　a　question　smoking　too；　demanding　to　finally　e　out　。　。　。
　　Who　played
　　What　changes　what　changes　
　　Who　plays　those　changes；　daddy？　
　　Who　
　　killed　Jerry　Bledsoe？　The　magic　juice　forced　itself　into　the　boy's　mouth；　stinging　threads　of　it　nauseatingly　trickled　into　his　nose；　and　just　as