There was something comforting about the exhaustionof hard work. All her life, Tally had been troubled byinsomnia, lying awake most nights thinking about argumentsshe’d had, or wanted to have, or things she shouldhave done differently. But here in the Smoke her mind shutoff the moment her head hit the pillow, which wasn’t evena pillow, just her new sweater stuffed into a cotton bag.
Tally still didn’t know how long she was going to staythere. She hadn’t come to a decision about whether to activatethe pendant, but she knew that thinking about it all thetime would drive her crazy. So she decided2 to put it out ofher mind. One day she might wake up and realize that shecouldn’t stand to live her entire life as an ugly, no matterwho it hurt or what it cost . . . but for the moment, Dr.
Cable could wait.
Forgetting her troubles was easy in the Smoke. Life wasmuch more intense than in the city. She bathed in a river socold that she had to jump in screaming, and she ate foodpulled from the fire hot enough to burn her tongue, whichcity food never did. Of course, she missed shampoo thatdidn’t sting her eyes, and flush toilets (she’d learned to herhorror what “latrines” were), and mostly medspray. Buthowever blistered3 her hands became, Tally felt strongerthan ever before. She could work all day at the railroad site,then race David and Shay home on hoverboards, her backpackfull of more scrap4 metal than she could have lifted amonth before. She learned from David how to repair herclothes with a needle and thread, how to tell raptors fromtheir prey5, and even how to clean fish, which turned out tobe not nearly as bad as cutting them up in bio class.
The physical beauty of the Smoke also cleared her mindof worries. Every day seemed to change the mountain, thesky, and the surrounding valleys, making them spectacularin a completely new way. Nature, at least, didn’t need anoperation to be beautiful. It just was.
One morning on the way to the railroad track, David pulledhis board up alongside Tally’s. He rode silently for a while,taking the familiar turns with his usual grace. Over the lasttwo weeks, she’d learned that his jacket was actually madeof leather, real dead animals, but she’d gradually gottenused to the idea. The Smokies hunted, but they were likethe rangers6, killing7 only species that didn’t belong in thispart of the world or that had gotten out of control thanksto the Rusties’ meddling8. With its random9 patches, the230 Scott Westerfeldjacket would probably look silly on anyone else. But itsuited David, somehow, as if growing up here in the wildallowed him to fuse with the animals that had donated theirskins to his clothes. And it probably didn’t hurt that he hadactually made the jacket himself.
He spoke10 up suddenly. “I’ve got a present for you.”
“A present? Really?”
By now, Tally understood that nothing in the Smokeever lost its value. Nothing was discarded or given awayjust because it was old or broken. Everything was repaired,refitted, and recycled, and if one Smokey couldn’t put it touse, it was traded to another. Few things were given awaylightly.
“Yeah, really.” David angled closer and handed her asmall bundle.
She unwrapped it, following the familiar route downthe stream almost without looking. It was a pair of gloves,handmade in light brown leather.
She shoved the bright, city-made wrapping paper intoher pocket, then pulled the gloves onto her blistered hands.
“Thanks! They fit perfectly11.”
He nodded. “I made them when I was about your age.
They’re a little small for me these days.”
Tally smiled, wishing she could hug him. When theyspread their arms to take a hard turn, she held his hand fora second.
Flexing12 her fingers, Tally found that the gloves wereUGLIES 231soft and pliant13, the palms worn pale from years of use.
White lines across the finger joints14 revealed how they hadfitted David’s hands. “They’re wonderful.”
“Come on,” David said. “It’s not like they’re magic oranything.”
“No, but they’ve got . . . something.” History, Tally realized.
In the city, she’d owned lots of things—practicallyanything she wanted came out of the wall. But city thingswere disposable and replaceable, as interchangeable as theT-shirt, jacket, and skirt combinations of dorm uniforms.
Here, in the Smoke, objects grew old, carrying their historieswith them in dings and scratches and tatters.
David chuckled15 at her and sped up, joining Shay at thefront of the pack.
When they got to the railroad site, David announced thatthey had to clear more track, using vibrasaws to cut throughthe vegetation that had grown up around the metal rails.
“What about the trees?” Croy asked.
“What about them?”
“Do we have to chop them down?” Tally asked.
David shrugged16. “Scrub trees like this aren’t good formuch. But we won’t waste them. We’ll take them back tothe Smoke for burning.”
“Burning?” Tally said. The Smokies usually only cutdown trees from the valley, not the rest of the mountain.
These trees had been growing there for decades, and David232 Scott Westerfeldwanted to use them just to cook a meal? She looked at Shayfor support, but her friend’s expression was carefully neutral.
She probably agreed, but didn’t want to argue withDavid in front of everyone about how to run his project.
“Yes, burning,” he said. “And after we’ve salvaged17 thetrack, we’ll replant. Put a row of useful trees where the railroadused to be.”
The five others looked at him silently. He spun18 a saw inhis hand, anxious to get started, but aware he didn’t havetheir full support yet.
“You know, David,” Croy said. “These trees aren’t useless.
They protect the underbrush from sunlight, whichkeeps the soil from eroding19.”
“Okay, you win. Instead of planting some other kind oftree, we’ll let the forest take back the land. All the crappyscrub and underbrush you want.”
“But do we have to clear-cut them?” Astrix asked.
David took a slow breath. “Clear-cutting” was the wordfor what the Rusties had done to the old forests: fellingevery tree, killing every living thing, turning entire countriesinto grazing land. Whole rain forests had been consumed,reduced from millions of interlocking species to abunch of cows eating grass, a vast web of life traded forcheap hamburgers.
“Look, we’re not clear-cutting. All we’re doing is pullingout the garbage that the Rusties left behind,” David said. “Itjust takes a little surgery to do it.”
UGLIES 233“We could chop around the trees,” Tally said. “Only cutinto them where we need to. Like you said: surgery.”
“Okay, fine.” He chuckled. “Let’s see what you thinkof these trees after you’ve had to hack20 a few out of theground.”
He was right.
The vibrasaw purred through heavy vines, parted tangledunderbrush like a comb through wet hair, and sliced cleanlythrough metal when the odd misstroke brought the cuttingedge down onto the track. But when its teeth met the gnarledroots and twisted branches of the scrub trees, it was a differentstory.
Tally grimaced22 as her saw bounced across the hardwood again, spitting bits of bark at her face, its low humtransformed into a protesting howl. She struggled to forcethe edge down into the tough old branch. One more cutand this section of track would be clear.
“Going good. You almost got it, Tally.”
She noticed that Croy stood well back, poised23 to jumpif the saw somehow slipped from her hands. She could seenow why David had wanted to chop the scrub trees intopieces. It would have been a lot easier than reachingthrough the tangle21 of roots and branches, trying to bringthe vibrasaw to bear against a precise spot.
“Stupid trees,” Tally muttered, gritting24 her teeth as sheplunged the blade down again.
234 Scott WesterfeldFinally, the saw found purchase in the wood, letting outa high-pitched scream as it bit into the branch. Then itslipped through, free for a second before it thrust, spittingand screeching25, into the dirt below.
“Yeah!” Tally stepped back, lifting her goggles26, the sawpowering down in her hands.
Croy stepped forward and kicked the section of branchaway from the track. “Perfect surgical27 slice, Doctor,” he said.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Tally said, wipingher brow.
It was almost noon, and the sun was beating down intothe clearing mercilessly. She pulled off her sweater, realizingthat the morning chill was long gone. “You were rightabout the trees giving shade.”
“You said it,” Croy said. “Nice sweater, by the way.”
She smiled. Along with her new gloves, it was herprized possession. “Thanks.”
“What did it cost you?”
“Six SpagBols.”
“A little pricey. Pretty, though.” Croy caught her eye.
“Tally, remember that first day you got here? When I kindof grabbed your knapsack? I really wouldn’t have takenyour stuff. Not without giving you something for it. Youjust surprised me when you said I could have everything.”
“Sure, no problem,” she said. Now that she’d workedwith Croy, he seemed like a nice enough guy. She’d ratherhave been teamed up with David or Shay, but those twoUGLIES 235were cutting together today. And it was probably time shegot to know some of the other Smokies better.
“And you got a new sleeping bag, too, I hope.”
“Yeah. Twelve SpagBols.”
“Must be almost out of trade.”
She nodded. “Only eight left.”
“Not bad. Still, I bet you didn’t realize on your way herethat you were eating your future wealth.”
Tally laughed. They crouched28 under the partly cut tree,pulling handfuls of cut vines from around the track.
“If I’d known how valuable food packets were, I probablywouldn’t have eaten so many, starving or not. I don’teven like it anymore. The worst was SpagBol for breakfast.”
“Sounds good to me.” Croy chuckled. “This sectionlook clear to you?”
“Sure. Let’s start on the next one.” She handed himthe saw.
Croy did the easy part first, attacking the underbrushwith the humming saw. “So, Tally, there’s one thing that’skind of confusing.”
“What’s that?”
The saw glanced off metal, sending up a smattering ofsparks.
“The first day you were here, you said you left the citywith two weeks of food.”
“Yeah.”
“If it took you nine days to get here, you should only236 Scott Westerfeldhave had five days of food left. Maybe fifteen packets altogether.
But I remember on that first day, when I looked intoyour bag, I was, like, ‘She’s got tons!’”
Tally swallowed, trying not to show any expression.
“And it turns out I was right. Twelve plus six plus eightis . . . twenty-six?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He nodded, working the saw carefully beneath a lowbranch. “I thought so. But you left the city before your birthday,right?”
Tally thought fast. “Sure. But I guess I didn’t really eatthree meals every day, Croy. Like I said, I was pretty sick ofSpagBol after a while.”
“Seems like you didn’t eat much at all, for such along trip.”
Tally struggled to do the math in her head, to figure outwhat sort of numbers would add up. She remembered whatShay had said that first night: Some Smokies were suspiciousof her, worried that she might be a spy. Tally hadthought they all accepted her by now. Apparently29 not.
She took a deep breath, trying to keep the fear out ofher voice. “Look, Croy, let me tell you something. A secret.”
“What’s that?”
“I probably left the city with more than just two weeks’
worth of food. I never really counted.”
“But you kept saying—”
“Yeah, I might have exaggerated a little, just to makeUGLIES 237the trip sound more interesting, you know? Like I couldhave run out of food when the rangers didn’t turn up. Butyou’re right, I always had plenty.”
“Sure.” He looked up at her, smiling gently. “I thoughtmaybe so. Your trip did sound a little bit too . . . interestingto be true.”
“But most of what I said was—”
“Of course.” The saw whined30 to a stop in his hand. “I’msure most of it was. Question is, how much?”
Tally met his piercing eyes, struggling to think of whatto say. It was nothing but a few extra food packets, hardlyproof that she was a spy. She should just laugh it off. But thefact that he was dead right silenced her.
“You want the saw for a while?” he said mildly.
“Clearing this up is hard work.”
Since they were clearing brush, there was no load of metalto take back at midday, so the railroad crew had broughttheir lunch out with them: potato soup, and bread withsalty olives dotted through it. Tally was glad when Shaytook her lunch away from the rest of the group, to the edgeof the dense31 forest. She followed, settling next to her friendin the dappled light. “I need to talk to you, Shay.”
Shay, not looking at her, sighed softly as she tore herbread into pieces. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
“Oh. Did he talk to you, too?”
Shay shook her head. “He didn’t have to say anything.”
238 Scott WesterfeldTally frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s obvious. Ever since you got here. I shouldhave seen it right away.”
“I never—” Tally started, but her voice betrayed her.
“What are you saying? You think Croy’s right?”
Shay sighed. “I’m just saying that—” She stopped andturned to face Tally. “Croy? What about Croy?”
“He was talking to me before lunch, and he noticed mysweater and asked if I got a sleeping bag. And he figured thatafter nine days getting here I had too much SpagBol left.”
“You had too much what?” Shay’s expression was one oftotal confusion. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Remember when I got here? I told everyone that . . .”
Tally trailed off, for the first time noticing Shay’s eyes. Theywere lined with red, as if she hadn’t slept. “Wait a second,what did you think I was talking about?”
Shay held out a hand, fingers splayed. “This.”
“What?”
“Hold out yours.”
Tally opened one hand, making a mirror image ofShay’s.
“Same size,” Shay said. She turned both her palms up.
“Same blisters32, too.”
Tally looked down and blinked. If anything, Shay’shands were in worse shape, red and dry and cracked withthe ragged33 edges of burst blisters. Shay always worked sohard, diving in first, always taking the hardest jobs.
UGLIES 239Tally’s fingers went to the gloves tucked into her belt.
“Shay, I’m sure David didn’t mean to—”
“I’m sure he did. People always think long and hardabout gifts in the Smoke.”
Tally bit her lip. It was true. She pulled the gloves fromher belt. “You should take them.”
“I. Don’t. Want. Them.”
Tally sat back, stunned34. First Croy, now this.
“No, I guess you don’t.” She dropped the gloves. “But Shay,shouldn’t you talk to David before you go nuts about this?”
Shay chewed at a fingernail, shaking her head. “Hedoesn’t talk to me that much anymore. Not since youshowed up. Not about anything important. He’s got stuff onhis mind, he says.”
“Oh.” Tally gritted35 her teeth. “I never . . . I mean, I likeDavid, but . . .”
“It’s not your fault, okay? I know that.” Shay reachedout and gave Tally’s heart-shaped pendant a little flick36. “Andbesides, maybe your mysterious someone will show up,and it won’t matter anyway.”
Tally nodded. True enough, once the Specials got here,Shay’s romantic life would be the least of anyone’s worries.
“Have you even mentioned that to David? It seems likeit might be an issue.”
“No. I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“It just never came up.”
240 Scott WesterfeldShay’s mouth tightened37. “That’s convenient.”
Tally let out a groan38. “But Shay, you said it yourself: Iwasn’t supposed to be giving out directions to the Smoke. Ifeel really bad about the whole thing. I’m not going to goadvertising it.”
“Except by wearing that thing around your neck.
Which didn’t do much good, though, since apparentlyDavid didn’t notice it.”
Tally sighed. “Or maybe he doesn’t care, because this isall just in your . . .” She couldn’t finish. It wasn’t just inShay’s head; she could see it now, and feel it too. WhenDavid showed her the railway cave, and told her his secretabout his parents, he had trusted her, even when heshouldn’t have. And now this present. Could it really bejust Shay overreacting?
In a quiet part of her mind, Tally realized that shehoped it wasn’t.
She took a deep breath, expelling the thought. “Shay,what do you want me to do?”
“Just tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“About why you wear that heart. About your mysterioussomeone.”
Too late, Tally felt the expression on her face.
Shay nodded. “You don’t want to, do you? That’s prettyclear.”
“No, I will. Really.”
UGLIES 241“Sure you will.” Shay turned away, pulling a hunk ofbread from her soup and taking a vicious bite.
“I will.” Tally touched her friend’s shoulder, and insteadof pulling away, Shay turned back to her, her expressionalmost hopeful.
Tally swallowed. “I’ll tell him everything, I promise.”
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收听单词发音
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1
tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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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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3
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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9
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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10
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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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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12
flexing
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| n.挠曲，可挠性v.屈曲( flex的现在分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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13
pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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14
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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15
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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17
salvaged
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| （从火灾、海难等中）抢救（某物）( salvage的过去式和过去分词 )； 回收利用（某物） | |
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18
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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eroding
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| 侵蚀，腐蚀( erode的现在分词 )； 逐渐毁坏，削弱，损害 | |
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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22
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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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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gritting
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的现在分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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25
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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26
goggles
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| n.护目镜 | |
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27
surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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blisters
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| n.水疱( blister的名词复数 )；水肿；气泡 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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35
gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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36
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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37
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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38
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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