The figures swayed in the darkness, chanting in a dialect not altogether familiar to me, a monotonous2 wailing3 chant, with a single recurrent phrase: "Kamaina! Kama-aina!" It began on a high note, descending4 in weird5 chromatics to the lowest tone the human ear could resolve.
The sound made me draw back. Even the Dry-towners shunned6 the orgiastic rituals of Kamaina. Earthmen have a reputation for getting rid of the more objectionable customs—by human standards—on any planet where they live. But they don't touch religions, and Kamaina, on the surface anyhow, was a religion.
I started to turn round and leave, as if I had inadvertently[89] walked through the wrong door, but my conductor hauled on my arm, and I was wedged in too tight by now to risk a roughhouse. Trying to force my way out would only have called attention to me, and the first of the Secret Service maxims8 is; when in doubt, go along, keep quiet, and watch the other guy.
As my eyes adapted to the dim light, I saw that most of the crowd were Charin plainsmen or chaks. One or two wore Dry-town shirtcloaks, and I even thought I saw an Earthman in the crowd, though I was never sure and I fervently9 hope not. They were squatting10 around small crescent-shaped tables, and all intently gazing at a flickery spot of light at the front of the cellar. I saw an empty place at one table and dropped there, finding the floor soft, as if cushioned.
On each table, small smudging pastilles were burning, and from these cones12 of ash-tipped fire came the steamy, swimmy smoke that filled the darkness with strange colors. Beside me an immature13 chak girl was kneeling, her fettered14 hands strained tightly back at her sides, her naked breasts pierced for jeweled rings.
Beneath the pallid15 fur around her pointed16 ears, the exquisite17 animal face was quite mad. She whispered to me, but her dialect was so thick that I could follow only a few words, and would just as soon not have heard those few. An older chak grunted18 for silence and she subsided19, swaying and crooning.
There were cups and decanters on all the tables, and a woman tilted20 pale, phosphorescent fluid into a cup and offered it to me. I took one sip21, then another. It was cold and pleasantly tart7, and not until the second swallow turned sweet on my tongue did I know what I tasted. I pretended to swallow while the woman's eyes were fixed22 on me, then somehow contrived23 to spill the filthy24 stuff down my shirt.
I was wary25 even of the fumes26, but there was nothing else I could do. The stuff was shallavan, outlawed27 on every planet in the Terran Empire and every halfway28 decent planet outside it.
More and more figures, men and creatures, kept crowding into the cellar, which was not very large. The place looked like the worst nightmare of a drug-dreamer, ablaze29 with the colors of the smoking incense30, the swaying crowd, and[90] their monotonous cries. Quite suddenly there was a blaze of purple light and someone screamed in raving32 ecstasy33: "Na ki na Nebran n'hai Kamaina!"
An old man jumped up and started haranguing36 the crowd. I could just follow his dialect. He was talking about Terra. He was talking about riots. He was jabbering37 mystical gibberish which I couldn't understand and didn't want to understand, and rabble-rousing anti-Terran propaganda which I understood much too well.
Another blaze of lights and another long scream in chorus: "Kamayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeena!"
Evarin stood in the blaze of the many-colored light.
The Toymaker, as I had seen him last, cat-smooth, gracefully38 alien, shrouded39 in a ripple40 of giddy crimsons41. Behind him was a blackness. I waited till the painful blaze of lights abated44, then, straining my eyes to see past him, I got my worst shock.
A woman stood there, naked to the waist, her hands ritually fettered with little chains that stirred and clashed musically as she moved stiff-legged in a frozen dream. Hair like black grass banded her brow and naked shoulders, and her eyes were crimson42.
And the eyes lived in the dead dreaming face. They lived, and they were mad with terror although the lips curved in a gently tranced smile.
Miellyn.
Evarin was speaking in that dialect I barely understood. His arms were flung high and his cloak went spilling away from them, rippling45 like something alive. The jammed humans and nonhumans swayed and chanted and he swayed above them like an iridescent46 bug47, weaving arms rippling back and forth48, back and forth. I strained to catch his words.
"Our world ... an old world."
"... humans, humans, all humans would make slaves of us all, all save the Children of the Ape...."
I lost the thread for a moment. True. The Terran Empire has one small blind spot in otherwise sane49 policy, ignoring that nonhuman and human have lived placidly50 here for[91] millennia51: they placidly assumed that humans were everywhere the dominant52 race, as on Earth itself.
The Toymaker's weaving arms went on spinning, spinning. I rubbed my eyes to clear them of shallavan and incense. I hoped that what I saw was an illusion of the drug—something, something huge and dark, was hovering53 over the girl. She stood placidly, hands clasped on her chains, but her eyes writhed54 in the frozen calm of her face.
Then something—I can only call it a sixth sense—bore it on me that there was someone outside the door. I was perhaps the only creature there, except for Evarin, not drugged with shallavan, and perhaps that's all it was. But during the days in the Secret Service I'd had to develop some extra senses. Five just weren't enough for survival.
I knew somebody was fixing to break down that door, and I had a good idea why. I'd been followed, by the legate's orders, and, tracking me here, they'd gone away and brought back reinforcements.
Someone struck a blow on the door and a stentorian55 voice bawled56, "Open up there, in the name of the Empire!"
The chanting broke in ragged57 quavers. Evarin stopped. Somewhere a woman screamed. The lights abruptly58 went out and a stampede started in the room. Women struck me with chains, men kicked, there were shrieks59 and howls. I thrust my way forward, butting60 with elbows and knees and shoulders.
A dusky emptiness yawned and I got a glimpse of sunlight and open sky and knew that Evarin had stepped through into somewhere and was gone. The banging on the door sounded like a whole regiment61 of Spaceforce out there. I dived toward the shimmer62 of little stars which marked Miellyn's tiara in the darkness, braving the black horror hovering over her, and touched rigid63 girl-flesh, cold as death.
I grabbed her and ducked sideways. This time it wasn't intuition—nine times out of ten, anyway, intuition is just a mental shortcut64 which adds up all the things which your subconscious65 has noticed while you were busy thinking about something else. Every native building on Wolf had concealed66 entrances and exits and I know where to look for them. This one was exactly where I expected. I pushed at it and found myself in a long, dim corridor.[92]
The head of a woman peered from an opening door. She saw Miellyn's limp body hanging on my arm and her mouth widened in a silent scream. Then the head popped back out of sight and a door slammed. I heard the bolt slide. I ran for the end of the hall, the girl in my arms, thinking that this was where I came in, as far as Miellyn was concerned, and wondering why I bothered.
The door opened on a dark, peaceful street. One lonely moon was setting beyond the rooftops. I set Miellyn on her feet, but she moaned and crumpled67 against me. I put my shirtcloak around her bare shoulders. Judging by the noises and yells, we'd gotten out just in time. No one came out the exit behind us. Either the Spaceforce had plugged it or, more likely, everyone else in the cellar had been too muddled68 by drugs to know what was going on.
But it was only a few minutes, I knew, before Spaceforce would check the whole building for concealed escape holes. Suddenly, and irrelevantly69, I found myself thinking of a day not too long ago, when I'd stood up in front of a unit-in-training of Spaceforce, introduced to them as an Intelligence expert on native towns, and solemnly warned them about concealed exits and entrances. I wondered, for half a minute, if it might not be simpler just to wait here and let them pick me up.
Then I hoisted70 Miellyn across my shoulders. She was heavier than she looked, and after a minute, half conscious, she began to struggle and moan. There was a chak-run cookshop down the street, a place I'd once known well, with an evil reputation and worse food, but it was quiet and stayed open all night. I turned in at the door, bending at the low lintel.
The place was smoke-filled and foul-smelling. I dumped Miellyn on a couch and sent the frowsy waiter for two bowls of noodles and coffee, handed him a few extra coins, and told him to leave us alone. He probably drew the worst possible inference—I saw his muzzle71 twitch72 at the smell of shallavan—but it was that kind of place anyhow. He drew down the shutters73 and went.
I stared at the unconscious girl, then shrugged74 and started on the noodles. My own head was still swimmy with the fumes, incense and drug, and I wanted it clear. I wasn't[93] quite sure what I was going to do, but I had Evarin's right-hand girl, and I was going to use her.
The noodles were greasy75 and had a curious taste, but they were hot, and I ate all of one bowl before Miellyn stirred and whimpered and put up one hand, with a little clinking of chains, to her hair. The gesture was indefinably reminiscent of Dallisa, and for the first time I saw the likeness76 between them. It made me wary and yet curiously77 softened78.
Finding she could not move freely, she rolled over, sat up and stared around in growing bewilderment and dismay.
"There was a sort of riot," I said. "I got you out. Evarin ditched you. And you can quit thinking what you're thinking, I put my shirtcloak on you because you were bare to the waist and it didn't look so good." I stopped to think that over, and amended79: "I mean I couldn't haul you around the streets that way. It looked good enough."
I broke her links and freed her. She rubbed her wrists as if they hurt her, then drew up her draperies, pinned them so that she was decently covered, and tossed back my shirtcloak. Her eyes were wide and soft in the light of the flickering81 stub of candle.
"O, Rakhal," she sighed. "When I saw you there—" She sat up, clasping her hands hard together, and when she continued her voice was curiously cold and controlled for anyone so childish. It was almost as cold as Dallisa's.
"If you've come from Kyral, I'm not going back. I'll never go back, and you may as well know it."
"I don't come from Kyral, and I don't care where you go. I don't care what you do." I suddenly realized that the last statement was wholly untrue, and to cover my confusion I shoved the remaining bowl of noodles at her.
"Eat."
She wrinkled her nose in fastidious disgust. "I'm not hungry."
"Eat it anyway. You're still half doped, and the food will clear your head." I picked up one mug of the coffee and drained it at a single swallow. "What were you doing in that disgusting den31?"[94]
Without warning she flung herself across the table at me, throwing her arms round my neck. Startled, I let her cling a moment, then reached up and firmly unfastened her hands.
"None of that now. I fell for it once, and it landed me in the middle of the mudpie."
But her fingers bit my shoulder.
"Rakhal, Rakhal, I tried to get away and find you. Have you still got the bird? You haven't set it off yet? Oh, don't, don't, don't, Rakhal, you don't know what Evarin is, you don't know what he's doing." The words spilled out of her like floodwaters. "He's won so many of you, don't let him have you too, Rakhal. They call you an honest man, you worked once for Terra, the Terrans would believe you if you went to them and told them what he—Rakhal, take me to the Terran Zone, take me there, take me there where they'll protect me from Evarin."
At first I tried to stop her, question her, then waited and let the torrent82 of entreaty83 run on and on. At last, exhausted84 and breathless, she lay quietly against my shoulder, her head fallen forward. The musty reek85 of shallavan mingled86 with the flower scent11 of her hair.
"Kid," I said heavily at last, "you and your Toymaker have both got me wrong. I'm not Rakhal Sensar."
"You're not?" She drew back, regarding me in dismay. Her eyes searched every inch of me, from the gray streak87 across my forehead to the scar running down into my collar. "Then who—"
"Race Cargill. Terran Intelligence."
She stared, her mouth wide like a child's.
Then she laughed. She laughed! At first I thought she was hysterical88. I stared at her in consternation89. Then, as her wide eyes met mine, with all the mischief90 of the nonhuman which has mingled into the human here, all the circular complexities91 of Wolf illogic behind the woman in them, I started to laugh too.
I threw back my head and roared, until we were clinging together and gasping92 with mirth like a pair of raving fools. The chak waiter came to the door and stared at us, and I roared "Get the hell out," between spasms93 of crazy laughter.
Then she was wiping her face, tears of mirth still drip[95]ping down her cheeks, and I was frowning bleakly94 into the empty bowls.
"Cargill," she said hesitantly, "you can take me to the Terrans where Rakhal—"
"Hell's bells," I exploded. "I can't take you anywhere, girl. I've got to find Rakhal—" I stopped in midsentence and looked at her clearly for the first time.
"Child, I'll see that you're protected, if I can. But I'm afraid you've walked from the trap to the cookpot. There isn't a house in Charin that will hold me. I've been thrown out twice today."
She nodded. "I don't know how the word spreads, but it happens, in nonhuman parts. I think they can see trouble written in a human face, or smell it on the wind." She fell silent, her face propped95 sleepily between her hands, her hair falling in tangles96. I took one of her hands in mine and turned it over.
It was a fine hand, with birdlike bones and soft rose-tinted nails; but the lines and hardened places around the knuckles97 reminded me that she, too, came from the cold austerity of the salt Dry-towns. After a moment she flushed and drew her hand from mine.
"What are you thinking, Cargill?" she asked, and for the first time I heard her voice sobered, without the coquetry, which must after all have been a very thin veneer98.
I answered her simply and literally99. "I am thinking of Dallisa. I thought you were very different, and yet, I see that you are very like her."
I thought she would question what I knew of her sister, but she let it pass in silence. After a time she said, "Yes, we were twins." Then, after a long silence, she added, "But she was always much the older."
And that was all I ever knew of whatever obscure pressures had shaped Dallisa into an austere100 and tragic101 Clytemnestra, and Miellyn into a pixie runaway102.
Outside the drawn103 shutters, dawn was brightening. Miellyn shivered, drawing her thin draperies around her bare throat. I glanced at the little rim43 of jewels that starred her hair and said, "You'd better take those off and hide them. They alone would be enough to have you hauled into an alley104 and strangled, in this part of Charin." I hauled the bird[96] Toy from my pocket and slapped it on the greasy table, still wrapped in its silk. "I don't suppose you know which of us this thing is set to kill?"
"I know nothing about the Toys."
"You seem to know plenty about the Toymaker."
"I thought so. Until last night." I looked at the rigid, clamped mouth and thought that if she were really as soft and delicate as she looked, she would have wept. Then she struck her small hand on the tabletop and burst out, "It's not a religion. It isn't even an honest movement for freedom! Its a—a front for smuggling105, and drugs, and—and every other filthy thing!
"Believe it or not, when I left Shainsa, I thought Nebran was the answer to the way the Terrans were strangling us! Now I know there are worse things on Wolf than the Terran Empire! I've heard of Rakhal Sensar, and whatever you may think of Rakhal, he's too decent to be mixed up in anything like this!"
"Suppose you tell me what's really going on," I suggested. She couldn't add much to what I knew already, but the last fragments of the pattern were beginning to settle into place. Rakhal, seeking the matter transmitter and some key to the nonhuman sciences of Wolf—I knew now what the city of Silent Ones had reminded me of!—had somehow crossed the path of the Toymaker.
Evarin's words now made sense: "You were clever at evading106 our surveillance—for a while." Possibly, though I'd never know, Cuinn had been keeping one foot in each camp, working for Kyral and for Evarin. The Toymaker, knowing of Rakhal's anti-Terran activities, had believed he would make a valuable ally and had taken steps to secure his help.
Juli herself had given me the clue: "He smashed Rindy's Toys." Out of the context it sounded like the work of a madman. Now, having encountered Evarin's workshop, it made plain good sense.
And I think I had known all along that Rakhal could not have been playing Evarin's game. He might have turned against Terra—though now I was beginning even to doubt that—and certainly he'd have killed me if he found me. But he would have done it himself, and without malice107. Killed[97] without malice—that doesn't make sense in any of the languages of Terra. But it made sense to me.
Miellyn had finished her brief recitation and was drowsing, her head pillowed on the table. The reddish light was growing, and I realized that I was waiting for dawn as, days ago, I had waited for sunset in Shainsa, with every nerve stretched to the breaking point. It was dawn of the third morning, and this bird lying on the table before me must fly or, far away in the Kharsa, another would fly at Juli.
I said, "There's some distance limitation on this one, I understand, since I have to be fairly near its object. If I lock it in a steel box and drop it in the desert, I'll guarantee it won't bother anybody. I don't suppose you'd have a shot at stealing the other one for me?"
She raised her head, eyes flashing. "Why should you worry about Rakhal's wife?" she flared108, and for no good reason it occurred to me that she was jealous. "I might have known Evarin wouldn't shoot in the dark! Rakhal's wife, that Earthwoman, what do you care for her?"
It seemed important to set her straight. I explained that Juli was my sister, and saw a little of the tension fade from her face, but not all. Remembering the custom of the Dry-towns, I was not wholly surprised when she added, jealously, "When I heard of your feud109, I guessed it was over that woman!"
"But not in the way you think," I said. Juli had been part of it, certainly. Even then I had not wanted her to turn her back on her world, but if Rakhal had remained with Terra, I would have accepted his marriage to Juli. Accepted it. I'd have rejoiced. God knows we had been closer than brothers, those years in the Dry-towns. And then, before Miellyn's flashing eyes, I suddenly faced my secret hate, my secret fear. No, the quarrel had not been all Rakhal's doing.
He had not turned his back, unexplained on Terra. In some unrecognized fashion, I had done my best to drive him away. And when he had gone, I had banished110 a part of myself as well, and thought I could end the struggle by saying it didn't exist. And now, facing what I had done to all of us, I knew that my revenge—so long sought, so dearly cherished—must be abandoned.[98]
"We still have to deal with the bird," I said. "It's a gamble, with all the cards wild." I could dismantle111 it, and trust to luck that Wolf illogic didn't include a tamper112 mechanism113. But that didn't seem worth the risk.
"First I've got to find Rakhal. If I set the bird free and it killed him, it wouldn't settle anything." For I could not kill Rakhal. Not, now, because I knew life would be a worse punishment than death. But because—I knew it, now—if Rakhal died, Juli would die, too. And if I killed him I'd be killing114 the best part of myself. Somehow Rakhal and I must strike a balance between our two worlds, and try to build a new one from them.
"And I can't sit here and talk any longer. I haven't time to take you—" I stopped, remembering the spaceport cafe at the edge of the Kharsa. There was a street-shrine, or matter transmitter, right there, across the street from the Terran HQ. All these years....
"You know your way in the transmitters. You can go there in a second or two." She could warn Juli, tell Magnusson. But when I suggested this, giving her a password that would take her straight to the top, she turned white. "All jumps have to be made through the Mastershrine."
I stopped and thought about that.
"Where is Evarin likely to be, right now?"
"Rubbish! He's not omniscient116! Why, you little fool, he didn't even recognize me. He thought I was Rakhal!" I wasn't too sure, myself, but Miellyn needed reassurance117. "Or take me to the Mastershrine. I can find Rakhal in that scanning device of Evarin's." I saw refusal in her face and pushed on, "If Evarin's there, I'll prove he's fallible enough with a skean in his throat! And here"—I thrust the Toy into her hand—"hang on to this, will you?"
She put it matter-of-factly into her draperies. "I don't mind that. But to the shrine—" Her voice quivered, and I stood up and pushed at the table.
"Let's get going. Where's the nearest street-shrine?"
"No, no! Oh, I don't dare!"
"You've got to." I saw the chak who owned the place edging round the door again and said, "There's no use arguing, Miellyn." When she had readjusted her robes a[99] little while ago, she had pinned them so that the flat sprawl118 of the Nebran embroideries119 was over her breasts. I put a finger against them, not in a sensuous120 gesture, and said, "The minute they see these, they'll throw us out of here, too."
"If you knew what I know of Nebran, you wouldn't want me to go near the Mastershrine again!" There was that faint coquettishness in her sidewise smile.
And suddenly I realized that I didn't want her to. But she was not Dallisa and she could not sit in cold dignity while her world fell into ruin. Miellyn must fight for the one she wanted.
And then some of that primitive121 male hostility122 which lives in every man came to the surface, and I gripped her arm until she whimpered. Then I said, in the Shainsan which still comes to my tongue when moved or angry, "Damn it, you're going. Have you forgotten that if it weren't for me you'd have been torn to pieces by that raving mob, or something worse?"
That did it. She pulled away and I saw again, beneath the veneer of petulant123 coquetry, that fierce and untamable insolence124 of the Dry-towner. The more fierce and arrogant125, in this girl, because she had burst her fettered hands free and shaken off the ruin of the past.
I was seized with a wildly inappropriate desire to seize her, crush her in my arms, taste the red honey of that teasing mouth. The effort of mastering the impulse made me rough.
I shoved at her and said, "Come on. Let's get there before Evarin does."
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1
jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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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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tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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maxims
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| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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immature
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| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
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fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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pointed
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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tilted
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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fixed
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contrived
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filthy
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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outlawed
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| 宣布…为不合法（outlaw的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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halfway
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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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33
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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34
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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35
shrilled
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
haranguing
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| v.高谈阔论( harangue的现在分词 ) | |
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37
jabbering
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| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的现在分词 )；急促兴奋地说话；结结巴巴 | |
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38
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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39
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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40
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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41
crimsons
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| 变为深红色（crimson的第三人称单数形式） | |
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42
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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43
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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44
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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45
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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46
iridescent
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| adj.彩虹色的，闪色的 | |
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47
bug
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| n.虫子；故障；窃听器；vt.纠缠；装窃听器 | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
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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50
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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51
millennia
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| n.一千年，千禧年 | |
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52
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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53
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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54
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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56
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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57
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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58
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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59
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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60
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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61
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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62
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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63
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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64
shortcut
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| n.近路，捷径 | |
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65
subconscious
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| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
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66
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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67
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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68
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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69
irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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70
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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72
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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73
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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74
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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75
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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76
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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77
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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78
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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79
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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80
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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81
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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82
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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83
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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84
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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85
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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86
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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87
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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88
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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89
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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90
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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91
complexities
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| 复杂性(complexity的名词复数)； 复杂的事物 | |
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92
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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93
spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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94
bleakly
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| 无望地，阴郁地，苍凉地 | |
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95
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
tangles
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| （使）缠结， （使）乱作一团( tangle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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97
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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98
veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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99
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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100
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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101
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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102
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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103
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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104
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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105
smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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106
evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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107
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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108
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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109
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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110
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
dismantle
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| vt.拆开，拆卸；废除，取消 | |
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112
tamper
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| v.干预，玩弄，贿赂，窜改，削弱，损害 | |
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113
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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114
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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115
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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116
omniscient
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| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
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117
reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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118
sprawl
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| vi.躺卧，扩张，蔓延；vt.使蔓延；n.躺卧，蔓延 | |
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119
embroideries
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| 刺绣( embroidery的名词复数 )； 刺绣品； 刺绣法 | |
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120
sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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121
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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122
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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123
petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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124
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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125
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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