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Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第2章

小说: Fifteen Hours(科幻战争) 字数: 每页3500字

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with promise; had been diminished and reduced by circumstance。 He was left with only a few
simple choices: to cry out or keep his silence; to bleed to death or take his knife and end it quickly;
to stay awake or fall asleep。 At the moment; sleep seemed a tempting prospect。 He was tired and
bone…weary; fatigue pulling at his sluggish mind like an insistent friend; but he would not yield to it。
He knew if he fell asleep now he would likely never awaken。 Just as he knew that all these so…called
choices were simply illusions。 In the end; there was only one stark choice left to him now — to live
or to die — and he refused to die。
How long now; the question again; relentless。 How many hours?
But there was no answer。 Resigning himself to the thought that his fate was now in the hands of
others; he waited in the silence of no…man’s land。 Waited; hoping that somewhere out in the night
his comrades were already searching for him。 Waited; refusing to give in or fall asleep。 He waited;
caught between life and death。 His life a last fitful burning spark lost amid a sea of darkness; his
mind wondering how it was he had ever come to be there at all…
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CHAPTER ONE
20:14 hours Jumal IV Central Planetary Time
(Western Summer Adjustment)
The Last of a Thousand Sunsets — A Letter Edged in Black — A Ghost in the Cellar — The
Lottery and the Tale of his Fathers
The sun was setting; its slow descent reddening the vast reaches of the westward sky and bathing the
endless wheat fields below it in shades of gold and amber as they stirred gently in the evening
breeze。 In his seventeen years of life to date; Arvin Larn had seen perhaps a thousand such sunsets;
there was something about the beauty of this one that gave him pause。 Enraptured; his chores for the
moment forgotten; for the first time since his childhood he simply stood and watched the setting of
die sun。 Stood there; with the world still and peaceful all about him; gazing toward the gathering fall
of night as he felt a nameless emotion rising deep within his heart。
There will be other sunsets; he thought to himself。 Other suns; though none of them will mean as
much to me as this one does; here and now。 Nothing could mean as much as this moment does;
standing here among these wheat fields; watching the last sunset I will ever see at home。
Home。 The mere thought of the word was enough to make him turn his head and look over his
shoulder across the swaying rows of ripening grain toward the small collection of farm buildings on
the other side of the field behind him。 He saw the old barn with its sloping; wood…shingled roof。 He
saw the round tower of the grain silo: the ginny…hen coops he had helped build with his father; the
small stock pen where they kept the draft horses and a herd of half…a…dozen alpacas。
Most of all; he saw the farmhouse where he had been born and raised。 Two…storeyed; with a low
wooden porch out front and the shutters on the windows left open to let in the last of the light。 Given
the unchanging routines of his family’s existence; Larn did not need to see inside to know what was
happening within。 His mother would be in the kitchen cooking the evening meal; his sisters helping
her set the table; his father in the cellar workshop with his tools。 Then; just as they did every night;
once their chores were done the family would sit down at the table together and eat。 Tomorrow night
they would do the same again; the pattern of their lives repeating endlessly day after day; varying
only with the changing of the seasons。
It was a pattern that had endured here for as long as anyone could remember。 A pattern that
would continue so long as there was anyone left to farm these lands。 Though; come tomorrow night
at least; there would be one small difference。
Come tomorrow; he would no longer be here to see it。
Sighing; Larn returned to his work; turning once more to the task of trying to repair the ancient
rust…pitted irrigation pump in front of him。 Before the sunset had distracted him he had removed the
outer access panel to reveal the inner workings of the pump’s motor。 Now; in the fading light of
twilight; he removed the motor’s burnt…out starter and replaced it with a new one; mindful to say a
prayer to the machine spirit inside it as he tightened and re…checked the connections。
Taking a spouted canister from beside the foot of the pump he dribbled a few drops of unguent
from it into the workings。 Then; satisfied everything was in order; he reached out for the large lever
at the side and worked it slowly up and down a dozen times to prime the pump before pressing the
ignition stud to start the motor。 Abruptly; the pump shuddered into noisy life; the motor whining as
it strained to pull water up from aquifers lying deep below the ground。 For a moment; Larn
7
congratulated himself on a job well done。 Until; just as the first few muddy drops of water emerged
from the mouth of the pump to stain the dry earth of the irrigation trench before it; the motor
coughed and died。
Disappointed; Larn pressed the ignition stud again。 This time though; the motor stayed sullenly
silent。 Leaning forward; he carefully inspected the parts of the mechanism once more — checking
the connections for corrosion; making sure the moving parts were well…lubricated and free from grit;
searching for broken wires or worn components — all the things the mechanician…acolyte in
Ferrusville had warned them about the last time the pump was serviced。 Frustratingly; Larn could
find nothing wrong。 As far as he could see; the pump should be working。
Finally; reluctantly forced to concede defeat; Larn lifted the discarded access panel and began to
screw it into place once more。 He had so badly wanted to be able to fix the pump; with harvest time
still three weeks away; it was important the farm’s irrigation system should be in good working
order。 Granted; it had been a good season so far and the wheat was growing well but the life of a
farmer was always enslaved to the weather。 Without the irrigation system to fall back upon; a couple
of dry weeks now could mean the difference between feast and famine for an entire year。
But in the end he knew that was only part of it。 Standing there; looking down at the pump after
he had screwed the panel back in place; Larn realised his reasons for wanting to see it repaired went
far beyond such practical considerations。 Like it or not; tomorrow he would be leaving the farm
forever and saying farewell to the only land and life he had ever known; never to return。 He
understood now that he had felt the need to perform some last act of service to those he would be
leaving behind。 He had wanted to complete some final labour on their behalf。 An act of penance
almost; to give closure to his grief。
This morning; when his father had asked him to look at the pump and see if he could fix it; it had
seemed the perfect opportunity to achieve that aim。 Now though; the recalcitrant machine spirits
inside the pump and his own lack of knowledge had conspired against him。 No matter how hard he
tried; the pump was broken beyond his powers to repair it and his last act of penance would go
unfulfilled。
Larn collected his tools together and made ready to turn for home; only to pause again as he
noticed a change in the sunset。 Ahead; the sun had already half disappeared below the horizon;
while the sky around it had turned a deeper and more angry red。 What gave him pause was not the
sun or the sky; but the fields below them。 Where once they had been bathed in spectacular shades of
gold and amber; now the colour of the fields had become more uniform; changing to a dark and
unsettling shade of brownish red; like the colour of blood。 At the same time the evening breeze had
risen almost imperceptibly; catching the rows of wheat in the fields and causing them to flow and
shift before Larn’s eyes as though the fields themselves had become some vast and restless sea。 It
could almost be a sea of blood; he said to himself; the very thought of it causing him to shiver a
little。
A sea of blood。
And; try as hard as he might; he could read no good omen in that sign。
By the time Larn had put his tools away; the sun had all but

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