作者 主题: 【Clutch of the Dragon】我们为爱付出的一切·前篇 p63-65  (阅读 327 次)

副标题: 故事之二 翻译:薛猫

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...THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE...
…我们为爱付出的一切…


PART ONE
前篇

劇透 -   :
He stepped out the front door of the Tarislar Elegy (a dive bar in Puyallup) and the famous “Tacoma Aroma” sailed across the sound
from the northwest and hit his nostrils like a motorcade of burning
dump trucks. Vive Seattle, vive humanité. He turned the high collar
of his coat up against the ever-present rain and chill and headed
south. The MP3 player in his pocket was an ancient relic, coated with
a thick resin of venerable grime that rubbed off on his finger when
he pressed play. Guitars, drums, and bass ramped up through the ear
buds with bouncy menace, and then Jello Biafra’s singing completed
the picture.
他踏出塔里丝莱尔哀歌(皮阿拉普一家廉价酒吧)(Tarislar Elegy)的正门,著名的“塔科马芬芳”从西北方跨越水沟直击他的鼻孔,如同一队燃烧的垃圾车。西雅图万岁,人类万岁(译注:法语)。他立起外套衣领,抵挡永不停息的雨滴和寒意,朝南边走去。口袋里的MP3播放器是个古老的遗物,被他的手指按下播放时刮蹭的可贵污垢包裹。吉他、鼓点、贝斯从耳机奏响,震耳欲聋,再配上杰罗·比亚夫拉的歌声。
劇透 -   :
The next corner he turned revealed an ugly scene. A trio of
Ancients, easily identifiable by the neon-green symbols on their black
synthleather jackets, had cornered a teenage ork girl in the shadows
beneath an abandoned monorail station, backing her up against a wall
and looming over her. Through the sound of the Dead Kennedys, he
could make out just enough of their city-speak patois and bastardized
Sperethiel to infer that the girl’s cousin had some nebulous association
with the Chulos, which made this part of town less than safe for her.
The Hispanic ork girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen, and she
was fighting back tears. She was wise enough to know they would only
make things worse.
下一个拐角出现丑陋的一幕。三个古人帮,黑色合成皮革夹克上的霓虹绿标志很容易辨别,他们把一个兽人女孩堵在废弃的单轨列车车站的阴影之下,把她逼到墙边,威胁地俯视她。透过《死人肯尼迪》的声音,他能刚好辨别出他们的市话方言和杂交的斯派瑞瑟尔语,判断出女孩的表亲似乎和皮条帮(译注:Chulos,西班牙语皮条客,自由加利福尼亚州一个拉丁裔和阿兹特兰裔帮派)有联系,这让她在城市这一片变得不安全。这个西班牙裔兽人女孩不会超过十三岁,她努力不让自己流泪。她知道眼泪只会让情况更糟糕。
劇透 -   :
For some reason this made him think of the vast, pale sweep of
the white wyrm’s wings as he vanished into the rift; the self- important demands he’d made of Jane during her stay in Denver, but more
than that, of Aina’s body, lifeless, on a gurney surrounded by armed
soldiers. And he felt something sweet, something so sweet that he
realized how much he had come to miss it, since besting Ehran at
Althain.
Anger.
因为某些原因这让他想起了白龙消失在裂缝时巨大苍白的翅膀;简停留丹佛期间向她提出的自命不凡的要求,但不只,还有埃娜的身体,毫无声气,躺在轮床上,周围是持枪的士兵。他感到某种甜美,无比甜美的东西,自在阿特海恩(Althain)击败埃兰以来,他意识到自己有多么想念这种感受。
愤怒。
劇透 -   :
“Think this trog’s old enough to turn tricks for her skinflint
cousin?” the leader asked one of his cohorts, who brayed laughter.
Harlequin didn’t see what was so funny. But then again, he was still
thinking of Ghostwalker’s tail vanishing into the rift, and of Aina’s
vacant, lifeless eyes.
“Can’t shut up, can you?” the painted elf asked, announcing his
presence. “Every bully I ever met can’t seem to shut his mouth. Except,
of course, when he’s afraid.”
The elven hooligan turned to him, his face all cheap cybereyes,
spiky piercings, post-adolescent acne, and dripping condescension.
He saw only the motley; fools always did. It was why he wore it. He
thumped one of his compatriots with an elbow, laughing.
“Look at this fucking clown.”
“觉得这个穴居人够年纪被她表亲拿去卖了吗?”领头的问他他的小弟,对方刺耳地大笑。哈勒奎恩没觉得有什么好笑的。但要说来,他还在想幽魂行者的尾巴消失在裂缝中,还有埃娜空洞、无生命的双眼。
“你们不能闭嘴吗?”面涂油彩的精灵提问表示自己的存在。“每个欺负人的家伙都似乎都不喜欢闭嘴。当然,除了害怕的时候。”
精灵流氓朝他转身,他的眼睛是廉价的赛博眼,脸上都是穿刺、后青春期粉刺,还有厚得能滴落的傲慢。他只看见了小丑的花衣;傻子都这样。这正是为什么他这么穿。他一边用胳膊肘撞他的同伙,一边大笑。
“看,这TM是个小丑。”
劇透 -   :
The razor-wound slashes of crimson-on-white at the corners of
his mouth stretched as Harlequin smiled. The sword that runners had
retrieved for him was sitting in his hotel room downtown instead of
at his side. Of course, he wouldn’t need it any more than he would his
magic. Some things begged to be done by hand.
“You a Halloweener or something, asshole?” He wasn’t. “Where’s
your chummers? You’re a long way outside of your t—”
The ganger was interrupted by Harlequin’s forehead, snapping
suddenly forward to break his nose on impact. A smear of dark blood
from the punk’s shattered septum stained the place above and between
Harlequin’s eyes, like an Ash Wednesday smudge, as the Ancient staggered backwards and fell on his ass while he tried to stem the tide of
blood with both hands.
哈勒奎恩微笑了,嘴角锐利的红白交接线被拉长。狂奔者帮他取回的剑现在待在市中心的酒店房间里而不在手边。当然,他不需要,正如他也不需要用魔法。有些事情必须亲自动手。
“你是万圣帮的还是什么,混蛋?”他不是。“你的伙计在哪?你离你的——”
古人帮的家伙被打断,哈勒奎恩的额头猛然向前,撞断他的鼻子。朋克仔撞碎的鼻梁流出一团暗色的血糊在了哈勒奎恩的额头和两眼之间,像是圣灰日的涂灰礼,那个古人帮踉跄后退,一屁股摔倒在地,试着用双手止血。
劇透 -   :
Harlequin felt only the tiniest glimmer of satisfaction; this was
not who he really wanted to hurt.
The other two—kids, really, especially by Elven standards—
exchanged an uncertain glance. One of them then snapped out a
switchblade, and the other pulled a Colt America from the sweaty
waistband of his torn-up jeans.
“You don’t want to do that,” Harlequin said, sounding bored.
“Get your friend a tampon for his face instead.” He made the barest
flick of his eyes toward their still-prostrate leader, then he moved to
turn lazily away. The one with the gun hesitated, while the one with the
knife went for him while he was turning; stupid, but it’s not like they’d
have fared much better if they acted in concert. Harlequin caught the
kid’s wrist, pivoted, twisted, and spun, redirecting the momentum
of the thrust. The blade disappeared to the hilt in the other ganger’s
stomach, hitting the soft patch of tee-shirt between the unwisely
unbuttoned fringes of his armored jacket. The gun fell from suddenly
nerveless fingers as his mouth opened in an “O” of surprise. Harlequin
let go, and both of them fell to the ground.
“What did I just say?” he asked, in Sperethiel.
哈勒奎恩只感到最些微的满足;这不是他真正想伤害的对象。
另外两个——还是小孩,真的,尤其以精灵标准——交换了不确定的眼神。一个甩出折叠刀,另一个从破烂牛仔裤被汗浸湿的腰包里掏出一把柯尔特·全美。
“你不想这么做,”哈勒奎恩说,语气无聊。
“给你朋友的脸找块棉花吧。”他扫了还趴着的头领最轻微的一眼,然后懒洋洋地转身离开。拿枪的迟疑了,拿刀那个在他转身时冲了上来;蠢,但他们就是在演唱会上也不会表现多好。哈勒奎恩抓住这孩子的手腕,以手腕为轴,弯折,扭转,将他的攻击转向。刀刃消失在另一个古人帮的腹部,击中了对方极不明智未扣好的护甲外套边缘中间柔软的T恤。枪突然从无力的指尖滑落,他的嘴因惊讶张成了“O”形。哈勒奎恩松手,两人倒地。
“我刚刚怎么说?”他用斯派瑞瑟尔语问。
劇透 -   :
He ignored them as they staggered to their feet and fled to seek
medical attention, leaving a trail of blood and curses in their wake. He
turned to the ork girl, who was staring at him, wide eyed, like he’d just
turned into a feathered serpent in the middle of the street. He knew
it probably wasn’t the violence she was shocked at—you didn’t reach
the age of thirteen in this neighborhood without seeing worse. She
expressed her surprise with some colorful Spanish vulgarity.
“Not any way to talk about your own mother,” he said, and
winked. Then he fumbled through the pockets of his leather jacket for
a rumpled silk pocket square, and wiped the blood offof his forehead.
His head hurt, slightly. Pocketing the handkerchief, he sketched a tiny
little bow (a bit theatrical, really) toward the girl, who seemed more
surprised by that than anything else thus far. “You see, not all elves are
so bad.”
He was lying; he was probably the worst of them.
他无视他们踉跄着站起来逃去找医疗处理,留下一串血迹和咒骂。他转向那个兽人女孩,她正看着他,双眼睁大,仿佛他当街变成了一头羽龙。他知道她很可能不是被暴力震惊——这个街区你不可能活到十三岁还没见过更糟的。她用一些多彩的西班牙脏话表达惊讶。
“对你母亲可不能这么说话,”他说,眨了眨眼。然后他摸索自己皮夹克的口袋,找到一块皱巴巴的丝绸方巾,擦掉额头上的血迹。他的头有点痛,一点点。收好方巾,他朝女孩微微鞠躬(有点做戏,真的),她似乎比之前更加震惊。“你看,不是所有精灵都那么坏。”
他在撒谎,他可能是最坏的一个。

*

劇透 -   :
“Should I check him for weapons?” Alec Tintagel asked. He
knew from the angry frown that his patron was about to painstakingly
explain why what he’d just said was stupid, so he hastily added “That
was a joke.” Because it had been.
Lugh Surehand, the former High Prince of Tír Tairngire, smiled
thinly. Humor was never either man’s strong suit, and their current
situation—fugitives, hunted and in exile—didn’t help.
“Bring him in,” Surehand said, wearily, and with a dismissive wave
of his hand. He seemed about as eager for this meeting as he would be
to wrestle, naked, with a barghest. Maybe slightly less.
Tintagel did a quick sweep of the devices connected to his
PAN before doing so. The log-cabin lodge they were staying in
was rustic and traditional to the extreme, but the security network
he’d set up was not. Hidden thermographic cameras and chemical
sniffers covered the interior and the exterior of the cabin, and
motion detectors surrounded the perimeter. On top of that, he had
drones in the sky to watch out for any suspicious thermal signatures
encroaching on their position, and he’d left a few men out in the
treeline, wearing thermally insulated chameleon suits—it was fucking
cold up here—and taking rotating shifts. The place was, in short, as
much of a fortress as he could make it, but still a flimsy line of defense
if push came to shove. Their best defense, their only real defense, was
that no one should have any way of knowing they were there.
Except he knew.
“我该检查他的武器吗?”亚力克·廷塔格(Alec Tintagel)问。从庇护人愤怒的皱眉上他知道对方即将费力地解释为什么他刚才说了蠢话,因此迅速补上“这是个玩笑。”因为就是个玩笑。
卢·休尔汉,提尔坦盖前高等亲王,浅浅地笑了一下。幽默从来不是两人的强项,他们当前的处境——被放逐、被追捕的逃亡者——也幽默不起来。
“带他进来,”休尔汉疲倦地说,挥手示意他离开。他对这次会面的迫切程度,和他将赤身裸体和犬魔徒手搏斗相当。可能更低。
离开前廷塔格快速扫过连接到PAN上的设备。他们所处的木屋极其落后、传统,但他设置的安保网络不是。隐藏的热感摄像头和化学探测器覆盖了木屋的内侧和外侧,运动检测器包围着木屋外围。最后,他还在空中布置了无人机监视是否任何可疑的热量特征入侵,他还留了些人在林木线上,都穿着隔热变色龙套装——那里冷得要死,按时轮换。简单说来,他尽力将这里变成了一个堡垒,但依然不堪一击。他们唯一的真正防御,便是本应没有人知道他们在这里。
但他知道了。
劇透 -   :
Gritting his teeth, Tintagel pulled open the door. His men had
picked up the painted elf traipsing obliviously into the perimeter
and hadn’t known what to make of him. They’d forced him into
one of the ATVs at gun point and driven him up to the cabin before
contacting Tintagel and asking him if he had been expecting “a guy
in clown makeup.” Tintagel was thankful the target had cooperated
and come along willingly. Good help was damn hard to find.
Even without the motley painted on his face, Harlequin looked
ridiculous, wearing a puffy goose-down insulated nylon jacket,
stamping the snow off his feet—his boots, Tintagel observed,
appeared to be anaconda skin—on the porch mat, his breath
misting in the air. He grinned awkwardly at Tintagel, stepping
inside as Alec shut the door behind him. He was at least half a
head shorter than either the former High Prince or his paladin,
and a good thirty pounds lighter than Surehand. Like Alec, he was
clean-shaven. His hair—tied back in a ponytail—was dyed a red
similar to Surehand’s natural color, but at the roots it was growing
into a golden-brown color, showing a touch of gray. For an elf, he
looked old, which was in keeping with what little Tintagel had been
told about him.
廷塔格咬紧牙关拉开门。他的人看到了那个漫不经心逛到外围的油彩脸精灵,不知道该拿他怎么办。他们用枪迫使他进入一辆ATV,把他载到木屋,联系廷塔格,询问他是否有位“小丑装扮”的客人。廷塔格庆幸来人愿意合作,配合安保行动。好帮手实在太难找。
即使没有脸上的斑驳的油彩,哈勒奎恩看起来也很可笑,他穿着蓬松的鹅绒尼龙夹克,正在地毯上蹭掉脚上——靴子上——的雪,廷塔格注意到是蟒蛇皮做的。他笨拙地朝廷塔格咧嘴笑了笑,走进室内,亚力克在他身后关门。他比前高等亲王和他的圣骑士都要矮至少半个头,比休尔汉要轻三十磅。和亚力克一样,他的胡子剃得很干净。他的头发在后脑勺扎成马尾,染成了红色,和休尔汉自然的发色相近,但根部长出了金棕夹杂一点灰色。以精灵来说,他看起来有点老,和廷塔格听过的不多信息一致。
劇透 -   :
Harlequin stepped over the wooden bench on one side of the
cabin’s sole table and sat.
“The Cypress Hills in the lovely Algonkian-Manitou Council
lands,” he said. “Been a while since I’ve been up here.” He frowned,
suddenly. “Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever been here, come to think
of it.” He shrugged. “No relation to the hip hop group?” A joke of
some kind, and apparently not one he expected anyone else to get.
Surehand, for his part, sitting across the table on the bench opposite
Harlequin, managed not to let his face show any bewilderment or
exasperation. He was wrapped up in his heavy Mortimer of London
greatcoat —even with the space heaters running, it was cold in here.
A sharp wind blew through the lodge’s glassless windows, causing
the candle flames and their cast shadows, to dance wildly, stirring
the incense-laden air.
Tintagel was busying himself setting up a white-noise
generator. Just, he thought, in case. Surehand hadn’t responded,
so Harlequin went right on babbling, picking up his momentum
again after the pause.
哈勒奎恩跨过木屋一侧长桌边的木凳,坐下。
“美丽的阿尔冈昆-曼尼托议会(Algonkian-Manitou Council)土地上的柏丘,”他说。“有一阵子没来了。”他突然皱眉。“实际上,仔细想想,我不确定我来过这里。”他耸耸肩。“和嘻哈团体没关系?”算是玩笑,显然他没指望别人听懂。
休尔汉则坐在桌子对面的长凳,让自己的脸不露出任何迷惑或恼怒。他穿着厚实的伦敦莫蒂默大衣——哪怕有小型取暖器,这里也很冷。冷冽的寒风吹过木屋的玻璃窗,让蜡烛火光和他们的影子狂乱地舞动,搅动了熏香味浓郁的空气。
廷塔格忙着打开白噪音发生器。只是,他想,以防万一。休尔汉没有回应,于是哈勒奎恩稍微停顿后捡起话头继续胡扯。
劇透 -   :
“What are you doing up here, anyway? Thinking of running for
Ceremonial Chief ? I wouldn’t recommend it. The higher-ups here
have some life expectancy problems.” This was an understatement.
Every chief elected to office in the last ten years had died by violence.
“Or are you just laying low? Not sure how well that’s working out,
either. You, me, him, and the charming gentlemen in the balaclavas
outside are the only palefaces I’ve seen since I left Calgary.”
“I could study you for a hundred years and never understand
how you do it,” Surehand finally said. Tintagel turned to face the
two of them, now that the white noise generator—producing a faint,
unpleasant whine, keener than the howling wind—was running. “How
the more and more you talk, the less and less you’re actually saying.”
Harlequin sniffed. “It’s a gift. I missed you in Seattle. I came there
to talk to you. I’d heard that you were hanging around Puyallup. My
old stomping grounds.”
“不管怎么说,你在这里做什么呢?考虑竞选仪典长老(译注:Ceremonial Chief, 阿尔冈昆-曼尼托议会领导三巨头之一,另外两个是内务长老Civil Chief和战争长老War Chief。)?我不建议。这里的上层有些寿命问题。”这是保守说法。过去十年里每位被选上的仪典长老都死于暴力。“还是你只是在低调行事?也不确定你干得多好。你、我、他还有外面英俊的先生们是我离开卡尔加里后见到的唯一一群白脸。”
“我研究你一百年也不会知道你怎么做到的,”终于休尔汉说。廷塔格转身看着两人,白噪音发生器开始运作,发出让人不快的低泣,比狂风更冷。“你怎么能说得越多,实际说出的越少。”   哈勒奎恩吸了吸鼻子。“是天赋。我在西雅图想你了。我来这跟你说话。我听说你过去在皮阿拉普。我的老地方。”
劇透 -   :
“The situation in Seattle became difficult,” Surehand said,
desultorily. “I had to get out of town for a while.” Another
understatement; they’d been dodging bullets as they fled the Daisy
Chain restaurant in Tarislar, Jonathon Reed’s Paladins making a game
attempt at killing the former High Prince. It had been entirely too close,
and Tintagel was intent on not letting it happen again. “How did you
find me? For that matter, how did you get here?” Tintagel noticed that
Surehand didn’t mention why he’d chosen the AMC to go to ground,
namely his ongoing, delicate negotiations with the leadership of the
disenfranchised Elven Manitou tribe. Surehand’s efforts at gathering a
power base here had made much more immediate gains than his work
in Seattle. He was ready to back the Manitou in their move against
the Algonkian-controlled Council government in exchange for their
support—assuming they won—in retaking the Tír when he was ready,
and a position in their government in the meantime. This would, of
course, pit Surehand directly against Aztechnology, who were the
major backers of the Algonkian Council government, a fact he seemed
to regard as an acceptable risk.
“西雅图的情况变得有些困难,”休尔汉冷淡地说。“我离开城里有一段时间了。”依然太保守;他们躲避子弹才逃离了塔里丝莱尔的雏菊链(Daisy Chain)餐馆,乔纳森·里德的圣骑士冒险尝试杀害前高等亲王。太近了,廷塔格决意不让类似事情再次发生。“你怎么找到我的?应该说,你怎么来的?”廷塔格注意到休尔汉没提到为什么选择AMC,也就是他正与被剥夺公民权的曼尼托精灵部落进行交涉。休尔汉在此地拓展势力的努力比他在西雅图的工作有更快的回报。他准备支持曼尼托反抗阿尔昆冈政府的行动,以交换对方对他将来取回提尔的支持——假如他们能赢——以及新政府的一个席位。当然,这将让休尔汉与阿兹科技直接冲突,阿兹科技是阿尔昆冈议会政府的主要支持者,他似乎将它视作可接受的风险。
劇透 -   :
“Shadowrunners,” Harlequin said, momentarily distracted by
playing with the zipper of his coat. “I love those guys.”
Surehand narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased with the vagary of
that response, but knowing he wasn’t going to do any better.
“How can I help you?” Surehand asked Harlequin, abruptly
cutting to the point, which was somewhat unlike him. Tintagel
remembered why his patron had said Harlequin made him
uncomfortable. “I don’t understand him, have never understood him.
I don’t know what the hell he wants,” he’d said. “I’ve never known what
he wanted. But now he knows what I want, doesn’t he?”
And he did.
“狂奔者,”哈勒奎恩说,玩弄着外套拉链,短暂分神。“我爱那些家伙。”
休尔汉眯起眼,明显不满这古怪的回应,但他知道再也问不出别的了。
“我能帮你什么?”休尔汉问哈勒奎恩,他突然直入主题,不像他的风格。廷塔格记起他的庇护人说过哈勒奎恩让他不适。“我不理解他,从来都不理解他。我不知道他该死的想要什么,”他这么说。“我从来不知道他要什么。但现在他知道我要什么,不是吗?”
的确。

*

劇透 -   :
Harlequin paused in the doorway, perhaps trying to compose some
final witticism to accompany his exit.
“You do know this won’t bring her back?” Surehand asked.
The painted elf turned. His gold-flecked green eyes fixed the former
High Prince with a look of such intense, withering venom that Tintagel
winced. It was, he later realized, actually quite similar to Surehand’s own
“how can someone as stupid as you still manage to draw breath” look.
But instead of responding, the painted elf left. Vanished. He didn’t
walk away, and he certainly didn’t cast a spell—Tintagel would have
known if he had, although he most likely couldn’t have done anything
to stop it. He was just gone, like he’d never been there.
哈勒奎恩在门口停顿,可能是想编出最后的妙词搭配他的离开。
“你知道这样做她不会回来吧?”休尔汉问。
面涂油彩的精灵转身。闪着金光的绿色眼珠盯着前高等亲王,带着如此强烈、刻薄的毒液,廷塔格不由退缩。稍后他意识到,这和休尔汉“像你这么蠢的人怎么还能呼吸”的神情很像。
但他没有回答,面涂油彩的精灵离开了。消失了。他不是走开,也肯定也没有施法——廷塔格会知道,虽然他基本不可能阻止。他只是离开了,仿佛从未来过。
劇透 -   :
“That unbelievable bastard,” Surehand said wonderingly, rubbing
an old scar on his cheek. “He doesn’t know, does he? How can he of all
people be the only one of us who was there that doesn’t know that she’s
not gone, at least, not really gone.” He shook his head. “You know, Alec,
even the world’s greatest liar never could deceive people half as well as
they can deceive themselves.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
After shutting the door, Tintagel did another sweep of the perimeter
security via his PAN, until he was satisfied. It was a silent night out there,
if not a holy one. Now that the painted elf had gone, Tintagel wanted to
feel relieved, but his patron’s attitude seemed to be the precise opposite.
Surehand climbed into his bunk, interlacing his fingers behind
his head as he leaned against the pillow and stared thoughtfully at the
ceiling.
“I have no idea what we’ve just gotten ourselves into,” Surehand
said with a weary sigh. Tintagel unbuckled his chest holster and hung
it and the heavy Savalette Guardian inside it dangling from the wooden
bedpost of his own bunk.
“You really think he can get us Hestaby’s support?” Tintagel asked.
“Those two have always been close,” Surehand said, sitting up
and stroking his beard. “If she’s really in a position to choose her own
successor, like he says, then all we have to do is choose our successor.”
Tintagel sat on his bunk, rolling his head around his shoulders,
trying to work out some of the kinks in his neck. “Then was everything
we’ve done here and in Seattle all for nothing?” he asked.
“Of course not. It’s not like I actually trust that mad fool. And you
can never have too many contingencies.”
“那个难以置信的混蛋,”休尔汉好奇地说,一边揉着脸颊上的旧伤疤。“他不知道,是吧?他怎么会是我们所有在场者中唯一一个不知道她没离去的人?至少,不是真的离去。”他摇摇头。“你知道吗,亚力克,就连世界上最高超的骗子骗别人也不如他们骗自己一半好。”
他不知道如何作答,因此什么也没说。
关门后,廷塔格再次扫过PAN上的外围安保,直到满意为止。寂静夜,但不是圣诞夜。现在油彩精灵走了,廷塔格想要放松,但庇护人的似乎态度正好相反。休尔汉爬上床铺,十指交叉枕在脑后,靠在枕头上,若有所思地盯着天花板。
“我完全不知道我们被卷进了什么,”休尔汉疲惫地叹了口气。廷塔格解开胸前的枪套,把它和里面沉重的萨瓦雷特卫士挂在自己床边的木制床柱上。
“你真的认为他会帮我们得到希丝塔比的支持?”廷塔格问。
“他们两个一直很亲近,”休尔汉坐起来抚摸胡子。“假如她真的能够选择自己的继任者,如他所说,那么我们要做的就是选择我们的继任者。”
劇透 -   :
It was, Tintagel knew, one of his favorite sayings.
“Then why do you seem so...” He trailed off.
“Pensive? Regretful? Terrified?” Surehand barked laughter. “Pitting
our interests against Aztechnology’s is one thing, but this...”
“… could be even worse.” Tintagel finished for him. Both men fell
silent for a while. ffen why did you agree to it? Tintagel wanted to ask,
but in his heart, he knew why. It was because the jester was no fool at
all. He had known what Surehand wanted, and had dangled it right in
front of him. After so many years living as an exile, a refugee, a fugitive,
there was almost nothing Surehand wouldn’t have risked to see his home
and his throne restored. As a Paladin, it wasn’t his place to question his
master. Only to trust and serve.
“How many deniable assets—and their fixers—do we have good
working relationships with? Only list the best people, ones who are
reliable, efficient.”
So Tintagel listed them, the fixers they used in Seattle, Calgary,
London, Dublin, Hong Kong, Neo-Tokyo, and all the rest. The runners
that they’d hired and contracted through proxies and the proxies of
proxies.
“Hmm,” mused Surehand, glancing sidelong at Tintagel as he toyed
with the ring he wore on his pinky finger. “We’re going to need more.”
廷塔格知道,这是他最喜欢的话之一。
“那为什么你看起来这么……”他的声音逐渐变轻。
“沉重?后悔?恐惧?”休尔汉大笑。“和阿兹科技敌对是一点,但这个……”
“……甚至会更糟。”廷塔格替他说完。两人都陷入沉默。那你为什么要同意?廷塔格想问,但内心,他知道原因。因为小丑不是愚人。他知道休尔汉渴望什么,他将它挂在他眼前晃动。经过这么多年逃亡者、驱逐者、难民的生活,休尔汉几乎愿意冒任何险回到家乡取回王座。作为圣骑士,他没有资格质问他的主人。只有信任和奉献。
“和我们有良好工作关系的可否认资产——还有他们的掮客有多少?只列出最好的,可靠、高效的。”
廷塔格一一列出,他们在西雅图、卡尔加里、伦敦、都柏林、香港、新东京还有其它城市用过的掮客。他们通过代理的代理的代理雇佣的狂奔者。
“唔,”休尔汉站在廷塔格身边看着,一边沉思一边把玩小指上的戒指。“我们需要更多人。”
« 上次编辑: 2019-01-29, 周二 18:41:37 由 NewAlbionDrone »
If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's probably an Andrik