Back in his own room in B.O.Q. the numbness2 cleared a bit. He poured himself a drink. Somehow, he thought, he'd become fairhaired boy to an Attila the Hun, an Alaric the Goth, a Hitler, a Haman; an Ashurbanipal I, a Rameses II. For Nef was equally with these a servant of Siva the Destroyer, with his plan to make Man pure.
His purification would involve the destruction of all non-axenic men and women all the way from the Home World to the newest beach-head on the Frontier; the sterilization3 of a hundred worlds as culture media for the new race; and the planting on the newly axenized soil of colonies of Homo gnotobioticus, the feeder-on-hydroponic-greens, the inodorous, the thin-gutted, the strong toothed Superman.
Nef's pogrom had begun with the raid on the village, Hartford mused5, his arms behind his head as he lay on his bunk6. Nef had decided7 that this green and pleasant world belonged to the silver men, the true men, the new men. Us, Hartford thought. Earth's Stinkers, ordinary humanity with its common cold and its caries, would follow the Kansan Indigenous8 Hominid, and the Great Auk, into history.
The double funeral of the Lieutenants10 Piacentelli was to be held at Retreat, outside the Barracks. Hartford wondered a bit at the haste with which the two bodies were to be consigned11 to the earth of Kansas. Perhaps haste was necessary because of the micro-organisms with which poor Pia's corpse12 was necessarily contaminated.
Hartford grimaced13. Contaminated humans must lead disgusting lives. They smelled of ferments14, were bloated with bacterially elaborated gases, suffered rot in their very teeth. Their corpses—poor forefathers15!—suffered corruption16 that would never touch an Axenite, whose unembalmed cadaver17 would last longer than the best-mummified Pharaoh.
Whatever mysterious errand it had been that had taken Piacentelli outside the Barracks, it had killed him. It was over.
Hartford marched the Terrible Third into position facing the graves, cut into the soil at the base of the hundred-foot flagpole. The entire regiment18, less only the handful of men and women necessary to secure the Barracks, was on the Parade Ground. Colonel Nef, his scarlet19 safety-suit brilliant in the light of the setting sun, stood beside the graves, a finger of his right gauntlet inserted to mark his place in the black Book of Honors and Ceremonies.
The regiment stood at parade-rest as a truck brought the bodies of two comrades through its ranks. As the improvised20 hearse halted and twelve blue-suited casket-bearers stepped forward to lift the flag-draped boxes, Nef called the regiment to attention. The bearers slow-marched the caskets to the graves and placed them on the lowering-devices.
Nef's words of funeral were few. He spoke21 of the dedication22 of the two Axenites being laid to rest and bitterly accused the Stinkers—this word seemed rude, in so formal a setting—of having murdered the young couple. He spoke of condign23 justice, and of revenge.
This done, he called: "Escort, less firing-party. Present, HAHMS! Firing-party, FIRE THREE VOLLEYS!"
The shots of the Dardick-rifles echoed down the plateau to the smoldering24 village below. The Regimental Bugler25, standing26 between the heads of the graves, flicked27 on his instrument. As the last volley spat28 from the muzzles29 of the rifles, the bugler played Taps.
Four men stepped forward to recover and fold the green-silk Pioneer colors, and the caskets were lowered to corruption in alien earth. The banner crept down the flagstaff, and the funeral was over.
Bone-weary, Hartford went from the Syphon to the refresher-room, where he checked his safety-suit and hung it.
Another officer was there, still in his blue safety-suit. Hartford wondered sleepily why he'd so long postponed30 unsuiting. Even the fellow's helmet was sealed. "Our first deaths on Kansas," Hartford remarked, wanting to coax31 the man into conversation and learn who he was. "I'd never realized till now that we're really soldiers, subject to violent death and formal burying." The man must be a replacement32, come in on the supply ship a month ago, Hartford thought. Black hair, crewcut. Tanned. Must be from one of the M'Bwene Worlds, where an Axenite's naked skin can bear unfiltered sunlight. "Both the Piacentellis were my friends," Hartford said, determined33 to coax speech from the stranger.
The man's bitcher boomed, evidently set on full volume. "Mattaku shirazu," he said. "Excuse. Pia not teach entire use of Standard tongue."
Hartford's right hand tore through the plastic pellicle over his Dardick-pistol and brought the weapon to bear on the figure before him. "You're a Stinker!" he said. "Pia's safety-suit—that's the suit you're wearing."
"Tonshu," the Indigenous Hominid said, bowing his head. He indicated the empty holster at his side: he was unarmed. "I come on taku, here to your honored precincts, to speak of things done and of future things. You are Hartford?"
Hartford thought quickly. His responsibility was to the Garrison34. This stranger was above all else a possible source of contamination, a carrier of the micro-bugs that could kill every Axenite on Kansas. Shooting him would rupture35 the safety-suit he wore. As it was, his exterior36 surface was clean; he could have entered the Barracks only by marching in from Retreat with the rest of the regiment, through the sterilizing37 Syphon. "I am Hartford. Lee Hartford."
"Pia said you are a good man," the stranger said, bowing.
"What is your name?"
"Renkei. As you say, I take Pia's uwa-zutsumi, this smooth garment." Renkei indicated the safety-suit by slicking his hands over it. "I must enter here to talk with Hartford. To enter, I must have garment. Pia, my brother, is dead. I borrowed his garment. Can I, with you, stop the ugly thing that began last night in Kansannamura? Kuwashiku wa zonzezu; I do not know. I can but try."
What a perfect disguise a safety-suit made, Hartford thought. Besides, it was the only passport a man needed to enter the Barracks. He stared at the stranger. He looked no different to men Hartford had met before, Axenites whose grandparents had been born by aseptic Caesarian section in Nagoya or Canton, two of the great gnotobiotic centers of fifty years ago. Renkei was a Stinker, a Kansan, an Indigenous Hominid (ignominious name!); he was also, Hartford felt, a man.
"Tell me why you made the dangerous journey here, into the midst of your enemies," he said.
"The death of our friend Pia. The burning of Kansannamura. The war between my people and you who wear smooth garments," he said. "This is aru-majiki koto."
"A thing that ought not to be," Hartford said, translating. He was glad for the practice he'd gotten with Pia, speaking the native tongue. "Sit down," he said. "You must explain, Renkei."
The refresher-room, a hall filled with lockers39 and the machinery40 that automatically tested and refitted the safety-suits each time they returned to the Barracks, had a dozen entrances and exits. As Renkei, still completely sealed in Pia's safety-suit, sat on the bench beside Hartford, the doors all closed at once. They hissed41 as the pneumatic seals were set in their frames.
Contamination Alert! Someone, most likely the Service girl on watch at the Status Board, had discovered that there was one more person in the Barracks than could be accounted for. A crash-priority head-count had been made. Each room and compartment42 had doubtless been eavesdropped43 through the built-in TV eyes and microphone ears.
One door at the far end of the hall burst open. A squad44 of safety-suited Service Police spilled in. At the point of their wedge was the scarlet uniform of Colonel Nef. Dardick-pistol in hand, he ran toward Renkei. "Don't shoot!" Hartford shouted, springing up.
"Get back, Mister," the colonel yelled. He dropped to one knee and squeezed all twelve rounds into the seated figure to Hartford's right. Service Police swooped45 down to pull Hartford away from the shattered body of Renkei. The lieutenant9's tee-shirt was stained, however, by flecks46 of blood splashed up as the SPs' bullets chewed into the Kansan. Hartford was contaminated.
For the next hour, Hartford had no more to say about his disposition47 than an angry bullock being dipped and scrubbed against an epidemic48 of cattle ticks.
His purification consisted in a sudsing with antiseptic soaps, this administered by a team of three Service Company gnotobioticians who were completely indifferent to his modesty49 and who seemed determined to peel off the outer surface of his skin. The women, safety-suited against being themselves contaminated, shaved off all his hair and ostentatiously packaged-up the shavings to be burned. They administered parenteral and enteric doses of broad-spectrum antibiotics50. By the time the gnoto girls were finished, Hartford was as bald all over as a six-weeks foetus, as sore as though he'd been sand-blasted, slightly feverish51 as a result of the injections and madder than hell.
Ignoring his demands to see Colonel Nef at once, the Service Company troopers helped him into his safety-suit. Hartford would have to live inside the suit for a week's quarantine, watched carefully to see whether a missed microbe would breed within him in spite of all the measures taken.
Hartford's company commander refused him permission to speak to the colonel. The lieutenant was to speak to no one concerning Renkei's invasion of the Barracks. He would remain safety-suited inside the Barracks or out; but would otherwise continue with his regular duties.
Hartford returned to the refresher-room where the murder had taken place. Renkei's macerated body had been removed for burning. The room had been carefully decontaminated, to the extent of hosing it down with detergent52 steam and individually re-refreshing each safety-suit in the huge hall's rows of lockers.
There was nothing to be done against Nef's madness, Hartford thought. He sat on the bench where Renkei had sat. The ultimate breakdown53 in communication is silencing one side of the dialogue, he thought. That's why killing54 a man is the ultimate sin; it removes forever the hope of understanding him. It ends for all time the conversation by which brothers may touch one another's mind.
What crap to find in a soldier's thoughts, Hartford told himself. He was an Axenite trooper, a Pioneer, a pistol-packing officer of infantry55, commander of the Terrible Third Platoon. He was an Axenite, dedicated56 by the immaculacy of his birth to the conquest of Man's frontiers.
Hartford snapped his plastic-sheathed Dardick-pistol, death in a supermarket wrapper, from his belt and placed it on the shelf of his locker38. He'd seen the village of Kansannamura burned. Pia had died across his shoulder. Paula lay buried, too. Renkei's life had been splashed out on a stream of bullets. Enough of death.
Hartford picked up a pack of field-ration squeeze-tubes and walked down the hallway toward the Syphon.
His leaving would show on the Status Board, of course, but that didn't matter any more. He was deserting the regiment.
He walked through the valley of desert that was the Hot Gut4, and down into the birth-canal that was the Wet Gut, to emerge in the evening air of Kansas. The motor sergeant57, stationed outside to guard the vehicles, saluted58. "Going for a walk, sir?" he asked.
"If you'll lend me a jeep, I'll go for a ride," Hartford said. "I'd like to see how things look, down in the village."
"It's against regulations, but if you'll have the truck back by dark I can let it go, sir."
"Thank you, Sergeant." Hartford returned the salute59 and drove off downhill, toward Kansannamura.
What would happen to Hartford-the-deserter? he wondered. At best, he'd be booted out of the troopers and grounded on Titan, or Luna or one of the M'Bwene planets, to serve the rest of his life as a paper-pusher, the bureaucratic60 equivalent of an endless Kitchen Police. At worst, he'd be exiled to Earth.
That meant exposure to bacteria, a gradual contamination till he'd been exposed to the full dirtiness in which earthlings daily lived, till he'd equipped himself with antibodies and a Stinker's immune-response.
The Service Police would be after him soon. Once out of sight of the Barracks, he turned his jeep off the road, onto one of the numberless paths used by camelopard riders on their trips between Stinker villages. He was headed upgrade, now, toward the mountains. On either side of the jeep were the fields of sunflowers, silent in the twilight61 calm. In a few moments the cool winds from the sea would flow into the land, stirring the billions of heart-shaped sunflower-leaves into the whisper that filled the evening and early-morning hours of Kansas.
His heart filled with hope and hopelessness, feeling like a happy suicide, Hartford sang to himself as the sunflower heads and leaves tattooed62 against his windshield. Pioneers! O Pioneers he sang, the anthem63 of the Axenites, the fellowship he was leaving forever:
Lo, the darting64 bowling65 orb66!
Lo, the brother orbs67 around, all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams, Pioneers! O pioneers!
The crunching68 of the jeep over the narrow track, the whipping of the plants against the vehicle and his singing all combined to drown out whatever noise it was the girl might have made. Hartford didn't see her till the jeep, rearing like a startled pony69, climbing the flank of the camelopard the girl rode, tossed him into a tangle70 of green stalks and golden flowers.
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1
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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2
numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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3
sterilization
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| n.杀菌，绝育；灭菌 | |
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4
gut
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| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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6
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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8
indigenous
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| adj.土产的，土生土长的，本地的 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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11
consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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12
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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13
grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
ferments
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| n.酵素( ferment的名词复数 )；激动；骚动；动荡v.（使）发酵( ferment的第三人称单数 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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15
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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16
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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cadaver
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| n.尸体 | |
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18
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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19
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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20
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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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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22
dedication
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| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
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23
condign
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| adj.应得的，相当的 | |
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24
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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25
bugler
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| 喇叭手； 号兵； 吹鼓手； 司号员 | |
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26
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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27
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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28
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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29
muzzles
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| 枪口( muzzle的名词复数 )； （防止动物咬人的）口套； （四足动物的）鼻口部； （狗）等凸出的鼻子和口 | |
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30
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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31
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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32
replacement
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| n.取代，替换，交换；替代品，代用品 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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34
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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35
rupture
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| n.破裂；(关系的)决裂；v.(使)破裂 | |
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36
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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37
sterilizing
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| v.消毒( sterilize的现在分词 )；使无菌；使失去生育能力；使绝育 | |
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38
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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39
lockers
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| n.寄物柜( locker的名词复数 ) | |
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40
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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41
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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42
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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43
eavesdropped
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| 偷听（别人的谈话）( eavesdrop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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45
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
flecks
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| n.斑点，小点( fleck的名词复数 )；癍 | |
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47
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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48
epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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49
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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50
antibiotics
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| n.（用作复数）抗生素；（用作单数）抗生物质的研究；抗生素，抗菌素( antibiotic的名词复数 ) | |
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51
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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52
detergent
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| n.洗涤剂；adj.有洗净力的 | |
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53
breakdown
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| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
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54
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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55
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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56
dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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57
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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58
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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59
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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60
bureaucratic
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| adj.官僚的，繁文缛节的 | |
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61
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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62
tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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63
anthem
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| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
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64
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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65
bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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66
orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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67
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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68
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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69
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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70
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
参考例句： |
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