John explained that in discovering this amazing child, who went by the name of Ng–Gunko, he had been helped by Adlan. The old man in the past had been in touch with this contemporary of John’s, and had helped the two to make contact with one another.
Ng–Gunko was a native of some remote patch of forest-clad mountain in or near Abyssinia; and though only a child he had at John’s request found his way from his native country to Port Sa?d by a series of adventures which I will not attempt to describe.
As time advanced and he failed to appear, I became more and more sceptical and impatient, but John was confident that he would arrive. He turned up at our hotel as I was trying to shut my cabin trunk. He was a grotesque1 and filthy2 little blackamoor, and I resented the prospect3 of sharing accommodation with him. He appeared to be about eight years old, but was in fact over twelve. He wore a long, blue and very grubby caftan and a battered4 fez. These clothes, we subsequently learned, he had acquired on his journey, in order to attract less attention. But he could not help attracting attention. My own first reaction to his appearance was frank incredulity. “There ain’t no such beast,” I said to myself. Then I remembered, that, when a species mutates, it often produces a large crop of characters so fantastic that many of the new types are not even viable5. Ng–Gunko was decidedly viable, but he was a freak. Though his face was a dark blend of the negroid and the semitic with an unmistakable reminiscence of the Mongolian, his negroid wool was not black but sombre red. And though his right eye was a huge black orb6 not inappropriate to his dark complexion7, his left eye was considerably8 smaller, and the iris9 was deep blue. These discrepancies10 gave his whole face a sinister11 comicality which was borne out by his expression. His full lips were frequently stretched in a grin which revealed three small white teeth above and one below. The rest had apparently12 not yet sprouted13.
Ng–Gunko spoke14 English fluently but incorrectly, and with an uncouth15 pronunciation. He had picked up this foreign tongue on his six-weeks’ journey down the Nile valley. By the time we reached London his English was as good as our own.
The task of making Ng–Gunko fit for a trip on an Orient liner was arduous16. We scrubbed him all over and applied17 insecticide. On his legs there were several festering sores. John sterilized18 the sharpest blade of his penknife and cut away all the bad flesh, while Ng–Gunko lay perfectly19 still, but sweating, and pulling the most hideous20 grimaces21, which expressed at once torture and amusement. We purchased European clothes, which, of course, he detested22. We had him photographed for his passport, which John had already arranged with the Egyptian authorities. In triumph we took him off to the ship in his new white shorts and shirt.
Throughout the voyage we were busy helping23 him to acquire European ways. He must not pick his nose in public, still less blow it in the natural manner. He must not take hold of his meat and vegetables with his hands. He had to acquire the technique of the bathroom and the water closet. He must not relieve himself in inappropriate places. He must not, though a mere24 child, saunter into the crowded dining-saloon without his clothes. He must not give evidence that he was excessively intelligent. He must not stare at his fellow-passengers. Above all, he must, we said, restrain his apparently irresistible25 impulse to play practical jokes on them.
Though frivolous26, Ng–Gunko was certainly of superior intelligence. It was, for instance, remarkable27 that a child who had lived his fourteen years in the forest should easily grasp the principle of the steam turbine, and should be able to ask the chief engineer (who showed us round the engine room) questions which made that experienced old Scot scratch his head. It was on this expedition that John had to whisper fiercely to the little monster, “If you don’t take the trouble to bottle up your blasted curiosity I’ll pitch you over-board.”
When we reached our northern suburb Ng–Gunko was installed in the Wainwright household. As we did not want him to cause more of a sensation than need be, we dyed his hair black and made him wear spectacles with a dark glass for one eye. Only in the house might he be without them. Unfortunately he was too young to be able to resist the temptation of startling the natives. Walking along the street with John or me, muffled28 to the eyes against the alien climate, duly spectacled and demure29, he would sometimes drop a pace behind as we were approaching some old lady or child. Then, projecting his chin above his scarf, he would whip off his glasses and assume a maniacal30 grin of hate. How often he did this without being caught I do not know; but on one occasion he was so successful that the victim let out a scream. John turned upon his protégé and seized him by the throat. “Do that again,” he said, “and I’ll have that eye of yours right out, and step on it.” Never again did Ng–Gunko play the trick when John was present. But with me he did, knowing I was too amiable31 to report him.
In a few weeks, however, Ng–Gunko began to enter more seriously into the spirit of the great adventure. The conspiratorial32 atmosphere appealed to him. And the task of preparing himself to play his part gradually absorbed his attention. But he remained at heart a little savage33. Even his extraordinary passion for machinery34 suggested the uncritical delight of the primitive35 mind in its first encounter with the marvels36 of our civilization. He had a mechanical gift which in some ways eclipsed even John’s. Within a few days of his arrival he was riding the motor-bicycle and making it perform incredible “stunts.” Very soon he took it to pieces and put it together again. He mastered the principles of John’s psycho-physical power unit, and found, to his intense delight, that he could perform the essential miracle of it himself. It began to be taken for granted that he would be the responsible engineer of the yacht, and of the future colony, leaving John free for more exalted37 matters. Yet in all Ng–Gunko’s actions, and in his whole attitude to life, there was an intensity38 and even a passion which was very different from John’s invariable calm. Indeed I sometimes wondered whether he was emotionally a true supernormal, whether he had anything unusual in his nature beyond brilliant intelligence. But when I suggested this to John he laughed. “Ng–Gunko’s a kid,” he said, “but Ng–Gunko’s all right. Amongst other things he has a natural gift for telepathy, and when I have trained him a bit he may beat me in that direction. But we are both beginners.”
Not long after our return from Egypt another supernormal arrived. This was the girl whom John had found in Moscow. Like others of her kind, she looked much younger than she was. She seemed a child, not yet on the threshold of womanhood, but was actually seventeen. She had run away from home, taken a job as stewardess39 on a Soviet40 steamer, and slipped ashore41 at an English port. Thence, equipped with a sufficiency of English money, which she had secured in Russia, she had found her way to the Wainwrights.
Lo was at first glance a much more normal creature than either Ng–Gunko or John. She might have been Jacqueline’s youngest sister. No doubt her head was strikingly large, and her eyes occupied more of her face than was normal, but her features were regular, and her sleek42 black hair was long enough to pass for a “shingle.” She was clearly of Asiatic origin, for her cheek bones were high, and her eyes, though great, were deeply sunk within their half-closed and slanting43 lids. Her nose was broad and flat, like an ape’s, her complexion definitely “yellow.” She suggested to me a piece of sculpture come to life, something in which the artist had stylized the human in terms of the feline44. Her body, too, was feline, “so lean and loose,” said John. “It feels breakable, and yet it’s all steel springs covered with loose velvet45.”
During the few weeks which passed before the sailing of the yacht, Lo occupied the room which had once belonged to Anne, John’s sister. Relations between her and Pax were never easy, yet always amicable46. Lo was exceptionally silent. This, I am sure, would not trouble Pax, for she was generally drawn47 to silent persons. Yet with Lo she seemed to feel constantly an obligation to talk, and an inability to talk naturally. To all her remarks Lo would reply appropriately, even amiably48, yet whatever she said seemed to make matters worse. Whenever Lo was present, Pax would seem ill at ease. She would make silly little mistakes in her work, putting things into wrong drawers, sewing buttons on in the wrong place, breaking her needle, and so on. And everything took longer than it should.
I never discovered why Pax was so uncomfortable with Lo. The girl was, indeed, a disconcerting person, but I should have expected Pax to be more, not less, able to cope with her than others were. It was not only Lo’s silence that was so disturbing, but also her almost complete lack of facial expression, or rather of changes of expression for her very absence of expression was itself expressive49 of a profound detachment from the world around her. In all ordinary social situations, when others would show amusement or pleasure or exasperation50, and Ng–Gunko would register intense emotion, Lo’s features remained unmoved.
At first I imagined that she was simply insensitive, perhaps dull-witted; but one curious fact about her soon proved that I was wrong. She discovered a passion for the novel, and most of all for Jane Austen. She read all the works of that incomparable authoress over and over again, indeed so often that John, whose interest ran in very different channels, began to chaff51 her. This roused her to deliver her one long speech. “Where I come from,” she said, “there is nothing like Jane Austen. But in me there is something like that, and these old books are helping me to know myself. Of course, they are only ‘sapient’’ I know; but that is half the fun. It’s so interesting to transpose it all to suit us. For instance, if Jane could understand me, which she couldn’t, what, I ask myself, would she say about me? I find the answer extraordinarily52 enlightening. Of course, our minds are quite outside her range, but her attitude can be applied to us. Her attitude to her little world is so intelligent and sprightly53 that it gives it a significance that it could never have discovered in itself. Well, I want to regard even us, even our virtuous54 Colony, in a Jane-like manner. I want to give it a kind of significance that would have remained hidden even from its earnest and noble leader. You know, John, I fancy Homo sapiens has still quite a lot to teach you about personality. Or if you are too busy to learn, then I must, or the colony will be intolerable.”
To my surprise John replied by giving her a hearty55 kiss, and she remarked, demurely56, “Odd John, you have indeed a lot to learn.”
This incident may suggest to the reader that Lo was lacking in humour. She was not. Indeed she had a gift of not unkindly wit. Though she seemed incapable57 of smiling, she often roused others to laughter. And yet, as I say, she was mysteriously disconcerting to most of us. Even John was sometimes uncomfortable in her presence. Once when he was giving me some instructions about finance he broke off to say, “That girl’s laughing at me, in spite of her solemn face. She never laughs at all, and yet she’s always laughing. Now tell me, Lo, what’s amusing you.” Lo replied, “Dear and important John, it is you who are laughing, at your own reflection in me.”
Lo’s chief occupation during her few weeks in England was to master the science and art of medicine, and to make herself acquainted with all the most advanced work on the subject of embryology. The reason for this I did not learn till much later. Her vocational training she pursued partly by means of an intensive study under an embryologist of some distinction at the local university, partly by prolonged discussion with John.
As the time approached when the yacht was to be ready and the adventure to begin, Lo’s studies became more and more exacting58. She began to show signs of strain. We urged her to take a holiday for a few days. “No,” she said, “I must get to the end of this business before we sail. Then I will rest.” We asked if she was sleeping all right. She was evasive. John became suspicious. “Do you sleep, ever?” he asked. She hesitated, then replied, “Not ever, if I can help it. In fact it is some years since I last slept. And then I slept for ages. But I will never sleep again if I can help it.” Her first answer to John’s incredulous “Why?” was a shudder59; then she added as an afterthought, “It is a waste of time. I do go to bed, but I read all night; or just think.”
I forget whether I mentioned that all the other supernormals were brief sleepers60. John, for instance, was satisfied with four hours a night, and could comfortably do entirely61 without sleep for three nights at a stretch.
A few days after this incident I learned that Lo had not come down to breakfast, and that Pax had found her still in bed, and asleep. “But it’s all wrong,” said Pax, “It’s more like a fit. She’s lying there with her eyes tight shut and awful expressions of horror and rage passing over her face; and she keeps muttering Russian or something, and her hands keep clawing at her chest.”
We tried to wake her, but could not. We sat her upright. We put cold water on her. We shouted at her. We shook her and pricked62 her, but it was no good. That evening she began to scream. She kept it up, off and on, all that night. I stayed with the Wainwrights, though I could do nothing. But somehow I couldn’t go. The whole street was kept awake. It was sometimes just an inarticulate screech63 like an animal beside itself with pain and fury, sometimes a torrent64 of Russian, shouted at the top of her voice, but so blurred65 that John could make nothing of it.
Next morning she quietened down, and for more than a week she slept without stirring. One morning she came down to breakfast as though nothing had happened, but looking, so John said, “like a corpse66 animated67 by a soul out of Hell.” As she sat down she said to John, “Now do you understand why I like Jane Austen, better for instance than Dostoievski?”
It took her some time to regain68 her strength and her normal equanimity69. One day, when she had settled down to work again, she told Pax a bit about herself. Away back in her infancy70, before the Revolution, when her people lived in a small town beyond the Urals, she used to sleep every night; but she often had bad dreams, which she said were extremely terrifying, and completely indescribable in terms of any normal experience. All she could say of them was that she felt herself turn into a mad beast or a devil, yet that inwardly she always remained her sane71 little self, an impotent spectator of her own madness. As she grew older, these infantile terrors left her. During the Revolution and the years immediately following it her family experienced terrible sufferings from civil war and famine. She was still in appearance an infant but mentally well able to appreciate the significance of events going on around her. She had, for instance, already reached a conviction that, though both sides in the civil war were equally capable of brutality72 and generosity73, the spirit of the one was on the whole right, the other wrong. Even at that early age she felt, vaguely74 but with conviction, that the horror of her life, the bombardments, the fires, the mass executions, the cold, the hunger, must somehow be embraced, not shunned75. Triumphantly76 she did embrace them. But there came a time when her town was sacked by the Whites. Her father was killed. Her mother fled with her in a refugee train crowded with wounded men and women. The journey was, of course, desperately77 fatiguing78. Lo fell asleep, and was plunged79 once more into her nightmare, with the difference that it was now peopled with all the horrors of the civil war, and she herself was forced to watch impotently while her other self perpetrated the most hideous atrocities80.
Ever since those days any great strain was liable to bring sleep upon her, with all its horrors. She reported, however, that the attacks were now much less frequent; but that on the other hand the content of her dreams was more terrible, because — she couldn’t properly explain — because it was more universal, more metaphysical, more cosmically significant, and at the same time more definitely an expression of something Satanic (her own word) within her very self.
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1
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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viable
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| adj.可行的，切实可行的，能活下去的 | |
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orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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discrepancies
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| n.差异，不符合（之处），不一致（之处）( discrepancy的名词复数 ) | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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12
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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14
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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15
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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sterilized
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| v.消毒( sterilize的过去式和过去分词 )；使无菌；使失去生育能力；使绝育 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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grimaces
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| n.（表蔑视、厌恶等）面部扭曲，鬼脸( grimace的名词复数 )v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的第三人称单数 ) | |
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22
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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maniacal
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| adj.发疯的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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conspiratorial
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| adj.阴谋的，阴谋者的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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stewardess
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| n.空中小姐，女乘务员 | |
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Soviet
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| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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42
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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46
amicable
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| adj.和平的，友好的；友善的 | |
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47
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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48
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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49
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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50
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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51
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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52
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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53
sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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54
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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55
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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56
demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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57
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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58
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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59
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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60
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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61
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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62
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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63
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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64
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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65
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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69
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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70
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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71
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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72
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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73
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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74
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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75
shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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77
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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79
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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atrocities
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| n.邪恶，暴行( atrocity的名词复数 )；滔天大罪 | |
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