9
Jahns’s walking stick made a conspicuous2 ring as it impacted each metal step. It soon became a
with the energy of a recent cleaning. All the traffic seemed to be heading upward, save for the two of
them. They jostled against the flow, elbows brushing, cries of “Hey, Mayor!” followed by nods to
Marnes. And Jahns saw it on their faces: the temptation to call him sheriff tempered by their respect
“How many floors you up for?” Marnes asked.
mustache twisted up in a smile of his own.
“Going down ain’t a problem for me. It’s the going back up I can’t stand.”
behind her, Marnes’s reaching ahead. She felt like telling him she wasn’t tired at all, but she did feel
a sudden weariness, an exhaustion7 more mental than physical. She had a childish vision of more
youthful times and pictured Marnes scooping8 her up and carrying her down the staircase in his arms.
There would be a sweet release of strength and responsibility, a sinking into another’s power, no need
And Jahns felt guilty for even thinking it. She felt her husband beside her, his ghost perturbed10 by her
thoughts—
“Mayor? How many you thinking?”
the boy, Connor, still in his teens but already with a strong back and steady stride. He had an array of
tourists? Jahns thought of something encouraging to say, some small verbal reward for these people
who did a job her knees never could, but he was already gone on his strong young feet, carrying food
and supplies up from the down deep, slowed only by the crush of traffic attempting to worm up
She and Marnes caught their breath for a moment between flights. Marnes handed her his canteen,
“I’d like to do half today,” she finally answered. “But I want to make a few stops on the way.”
Marnes took a swig of water and began twisting the cap back on. “House calls?”
“Something like that. I want to stop at the nursery on twenty.”
Marnes laughed. “Kissin’ babies? Mayor, ain’t nobody gonna vote you out. Not at your age.”
Jahns didn’t laugh. “Thanks,” she said with a mask of false pain. “But no, not to kiss babies.” She
turned her back and resumed walking; Marnes followed. “It’s not that I don’t trust your professional
opinion about this Jules lady. You haven’t picked anything but a winner since I’ve been mayor.”
“Even … ?” Marnes interrupted.
“Especially him,” Jahns said, knowing what he was thinking. “He was a good man, but he had a
broken heart. That’ll take even the best of them down.”
on the twentieth, not if I recall—”
“No, but her father works there now. I thought, since we were passing by, that we’d get a feel for
the man, get some insight on his daughter.”
“A father for a character witness?” Marnes laughed. “Don’t reckon you’ll get much of an
“I think you’ll be surprised,” Jahns said. “I had Alice do some digging while I was packing. She
found something interesting.”
“Yeah?”
“This Juliette character still has every vacation chit she’s ever earned.”
“Not only does she not get out, she doesn’t have visitors.”
“I still don’t see where you’re going with this.”
Jahns waited while a family passed. A young boy, six or seven probably, rode on his father’s
shoulders with his head ducked to avoid the undersides of the stairs above. The mother brought up
the rear, an overnight bag draped over her shoulder, a swaddled infant cradled in her arms. It was the
perfect family, Jahns thought. Replacing what they took. Two for two. Just what the lottery20 aimed for
and sometimes provided.
“Well then, let me tell you where I’m going with this,” she told Marnes. “I want to find this girl’s
father, look him in the eyes, and ask him why, in the nearly twenty years since his daughter moved to
Mechanical, he hasn’t visited her. Not once.”
She looked back at Marnes, saw him frowning at her beneath his mustache.
“And why she hasn’t once made her way up to see him,” she added.
••••
The traffic thinned as they made their way into the teens and past the upper apartments. With each
step down, Jahns dreaded21 having to reclaim22 those lost inches on the way back up. This was the easy
part, she reminded herself. The descent was like the uncoiling of a steel spring, pushing her down. It
reminded Jahns of nightmares she’d had of drowning. Silly nightmares, considering she’d never seen
enough water to submerge herself in, much less enough that she couldn’t stand up to breathe. But
live like this.
And so the descent, this spiraling downward, was much like the drowning that swallowed her at
night. It felt inexorable and inextricable. Like a weight pulling her down combined with the
knowledge that she’d never be able to claw her way back up.
They passed the garment district next, the land of multicolored coveralls and the place her balls of
into the curving cinder26 blocks looked through to a small food shop at the edge of the district. It had
been ransacked28 by the crowds, shelves emptied by the crushing demand of exhausted29 hikers and the
extra post-cleaning traffic. Several porters crowded up the stairs with heavy loads, trying their best to
satisfy demand, and Jahns recognized an awful truth about yesterday’s cleaning: the barbaric practice
brought more than psychological relief, more than just a clear view of the outside—it also buttressed30
the silo’s economy. There was suddenly an excuse to travel. An excuse to trade. And as gossip
flowed, and family and old friends met again for the first time in months or perhaps years, there was a
vitality31 injected into the entire silo. It was like an old body stretching and loosening its joints32, blood
“Mayor!”
She turned to find Marnes almost out of sight around the spiral above her. She paused while he
caught up, watching his feet as he hurried.
“Easy,” he said. “I can’t keep up if you take off like that.”
Jahns apologized. She hadn’t been aware of any change in her pace.
As they entered the second tier of apartments, down below the sixteenth floor, Jahns realized she
was already in territory she hadn’t seen in almost a year. There was the rattle35 here of younger legs
chasing along the stairwell, getting tangled36 up in the slow climbers. The grade school for the upper
third was just above the nursery. From the sound of all the traffic and voices, school had been
canceled. Jahns imagined it was a combination of knowing how few would turn up for class (with
parents taking their kids up to the view) plus how many teachers would want to do the same. They
passed the landing for the school, where chalk games of Hop27 and Square-Four were blurred37 from the
day’s traffic, where kids sat hugging the rails, skinned knees poking38 out, feet swinging below the
adults.
“Glad we’re almost there, I need a rest,” Marnes said as they spiraled down one more flight to the
nursery. “I just hope this feller is available to see us.”
“He will be,” Jahns said. “Alice wired him from my office that we were coming.”
They crossed traffic at the nursery landing and caught their breath. When Marnes passed his
“You look fine,” he said.
“Mayoral?”
He laughed. “And then some.”
Jahns thought she saw a twinkle in his old brown eyes when he said this, but it was probably the
light bouncing off the canteen as he brought it to his lips.
“Twenty floors in just over two hours. Don’t recommend the pace, but I’m glad we’re this far
already.” He wiped his mustache and reached around to try to slip the canteen back into his pack.
“Here,” Jahns said. She took the canteen from him and slid it into the webbed pouch41 on the rear of
his pack. “And let me do the talking in here,” she reminded him.
Marnes lifted his hands and showed his palms, as if no other thought had ever crossed his mind.
He stepped past her and pulled one of the heavy metal doors open, the customary squeal42 of rusted43
hinges not coming as expected. The silence startled Jahns. She was used to hearing the chirp44 of old
doors up and down the staircase as they opened and closed. They were the stairwell’s version of the
wildlife found in the farms, ever present and always singing. But these hinges were coated in oil,
rigorously maintained. The signs on the walls of the waiting room reinforced the observation. They
demanded silence in bold letters, accompanied by pictures of fingers over lips and circles with slashes45
through open mouths. The nursery evidently took its quietude seriously.
“Don’t remember so many signs last time I was here,” Marnes whispered.
“Maybe you were too busy yapping to notice,” Jahns replied.
A nurse glared at them through a glass window, and Jahns elbowed Marnes.
“Mayor Jahns to see Peter Nichols,” she told the woman.
The nurse behind the window didn’t blink. “I know who you are. I voted for you.”
“Oh, of course. Well, thank you.”
“If you’ll come around.” The woman hit a button on her desk and the door beside her buzzed
faintly. Marnes pushed on the door, and Jahns followed him through.
“If you’ll don these.”
white cloth robes. Jahns accepted them both and handed one to Marnes.
“You can leave your bags with me.”
There was no refusing Margaret. Jahns felt at once that she was in this much younger woman’s
world, that she had become her inferior when she passed through that softly buzzing door. She leaned
her walking stick against the wall, took her pack off and lowered it to the ground, then shrugged47 on
the robe. Marnes struggled with his until Margaret helped, holding the sleeve in place. He wrestled48
the robe over his denim49 shirt and held the loose ends of the long fabric50 waist tie as if its working was
beyond his abilities. He watched Jahns knot hers, and finally made enough of a mess of it for the robe
to hold fairly together.
never learned to tie a knot, so what?”
“In sixty years,” Jahns said.
nursery. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”
Jahns led the way. Marnes followed, asking her, “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I think it’s cute, actually.”
Marnes snorted. “That’s an awful word to use on a man my age.”
Jahns smiled to herself. At the end of the hall, she paused before a set of double doors before
pushing them open a crack. The light in the room beyond was dim. She opened the door further, and
where she had waited with a friend to be reunited with her child. A glass wall looked into a room that
held a handful of cribs and bassinets. Jahns’s hand dropped to her hip55. She rubbed the hard nub of her
now-useless implant56, inserted at birth and never removed, not once. Being in that nursery reminded
her of all she had lost, all she had given up for her work. For her ghosts.
It was too dark inside the nursery to see if any of the small beds stirred with newborns. She was
notified of every birth, of course. As mayor, she signed a letter of congratulations and a birth
certificate for each one, but the names ran together with the days. She could rarely remember what
level the parents lived on, if it was their first or second. It made her sad to admit it, but those
The shadowy outline of an adult moved among the small cribs, the shiny clamp of a clipboard and
the flash of a metal pen winking58 in the light of the observation room. The dark shape was obviously
tall, with the gait and build of an older man. He took his time, noting something as he hovered59 over a
crib, the two shimmers60 of metal uniting to jot61 a note. When he was done, he crossed the room and
passed through a wide door to join Marnes and Jahns in the waiting room.
to fold and unfold unsure limbs to move about. Peter was lean like a habitual63 exerciser, like a few
porters Jahns knew who could take the stairs two at a time and make it look like they’d been
expressly designed for such a pace. It was height that lent confidence. Jahns could feel it as she took
Peter’s outstretched hand and let him pump it firmly.
“You came,” Dr. Nichols said simply. It was a cold observation. There was only a hint of surprise.
He shook Marnes’s hand, but his eyes returned to Jahns. “I explained to your secretary that I
wouldn’t be much help. I’m afraid I haven’t seen Juliette since she became a shadow twenty years
ago.”
“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Jahns glanced at the cushioned benches
where she imagined anxious grandparents, aunts, and uncles waited while parents were united with
their newborns. “Could we sit?”
Dr. Nichols nodded and waved them over.
“I take each of my appointments for office very seriously,” Jahns explained, sitting across from
the doctor. “At my age, I expect most judges and lawmen I install to outlive me, so I choose
carefully.”
carefully shaven face. “Outlive you, I mean.”
Jahns swallowed. Marnes stirred on the bench beside her.
“You must value family,” Jahns said, changing the subject, realizing this was just another
observation, no harm meant. “To have shadowed so long and to choose such a demanding line of
work.”
Nichols nodded.
“Why do you and Juliette never visit? I mean, not once in twenty years. She’s your only child.”
Nichols turned his head slightly, his eyes drifting to the wall. Jahns was momentarily distracted by
the sight of another form moving behind the glass, a nurse making the rounds. Another set of doors
led off to what she assumed were the delivery rooms, where right now a convalescing65 new mother
was probably waiting to be handed her most precious possession.
“I had a son as well,” Dr. Nichols said.
Jahns felt herself reaching for her bag to procure66 the folders67 within, but it wasn’t by her side. This
was a detail she had missed, a brother.
“You couldn’t have known,” Nichols said, correctly reading the shock on Mayor Jahns’s face.
“He didn’t survive. Technically68, he wasn’t born. The lottery moved on.”
“I’m sorry …”
She fought the urge to reach over and hold Marnes’s hand. It had been decades since the two of
intervening time.
“His name was going to be Nicholas, my father’s father’s name. He was born prematurely70. One
pound eight ounces.”
The clinical precision in his voice was somehow sadder than an outpouring of emotion might have
been.
“They intubated, moved him into an incubator, but there were … complications.” Dr. Nichols
looked down at the backs of his hands. “Juliette was thirteen at the time. She was as excited as we
were, if you can imagine, to have a baby brother on the way. She was one year out from shadowing
her mother, who was a delivery nurse.” Nichols glanced up. “Not here in this nursery, mind you, but
“And Juliette?” Mayor Jahns still didn’t understand the connection.
“There was a failure with the incubator. When Nicholas—” The doctor turned his head to the side
and brought his hand halfway72 to his eyes but was able to compose himself. “I’m sorry. I still call him
that.”
“It’s okay.”
Mayor Jahns was holding Deputy Marnes’s hand. She wasn’t sure when or how that had
happened. The doctor didn’t seem to notice or, more likely, care.
“Poor Juliette.” He shook his head. “She was distraught. She blamed Rhoda at first, an
experienced delivery nurse who had done nothing but work a miracle to give our boy the slim chance
he had. I explained this. I think Juliette knew. She just needed someone to hate.” He nodded to Jahns.
“Girls that age, you know?”
“Believe it or not, I remember.” Jahns forced a smile and Dr. Nichols returned it. She felt Marnes
squeeze her hand.
“It wasn’t until her mother died that she took to blaming the incubator that had failed. Well, not
the incubator, but the poor condition it was in. The general state of rot all things become.”
“Your wife died from the complications?” It was another detail Jahns felt she must have missed
from the file.
“My wife killed herself a week later.”
in after these events, or a personality trait already in place.
“Seems like I would remember that,” Deputy Marnes said, the first words he’d uttered since
introducing himself to the doctor.
“Well, I wrote the certificate myself. So I could put whatever cause I wanted—”
“And you admit to this?” Marnes seemed ready to leap off the bench. To do what, Jahns could
hardly guess. She held his arm to keep him in place.
“Beyond the statute74 of limitations? Of course. I admit it. It was a worthless lie, anyway. Juliette
was smart, even at that age. She knew. And this is what drove her—” He stopped himself.
“Drove her what?” Mayor Jahns asked. “Crazy?”
“No.” Dr. Nichols shook his head. “I wasn’t going to say that. It’s what drove her away. She
shadow. She was a year too young for that sort of placement, but I agreed. I signed off on it. I thought
she’d go, get some deep air, come back. I was naïve. I thought the freedom would be good for her.”
“And you haven’t seen her since?”
“Once. For her mother’s funeral, just a few days later. She marched up on her own, attended the
burial, gave me a hug, then marched back down. All without rest, from what I’ve heard. I try to keep
up with her. I have a colleague in the deep nursery who will wire now and then with a bit of news.
It’s all focus, focus, focus with her.”
Nichols paused and laughed.
“You know, when she was young, all I saw was her mother in her. But she grew up to be more
like me.”
“Is there anything you know that would preclude76 her from or make her ill suited for the job of silo
sheriff? You do understand what’s involved with the job, right?”
through the open, shoddily tied robe, down to the bulge78 of a pistol at his side. “All the little lawmen
throughout the silo have to have someone up top, giving commands, is that it?”
“More or less,” Jahns said.
“Why her?”
Marnes cleared his throat. “She helped us with an investigation79 once—”
“Jules? She was up here?”
“No. We were down there.”
“She has no training.”
“None of us have,” Marnes said. “It’s more of a … political office. A citizen’s post.”
“She won’t agree to it.”
“Why not?” Jahns asked.
Nichols shrugged. “You’ll see for yourself, I suppose.” He stood. “I wish I could give you more
time, but I really should get back.” He glanced at the set of double doors. “We’ll be bringing a family
in soon—”
“I understand.” Jahns rose and shook his hand. “I appreciate your seeing us.”
He laughed. “Did I have a choice?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I wish I’d known that sooner.”
He smiled, and Jahns saw that he was joking, or attempting to. As they parted company and
walked back down the hallway to collect their things and return the robes, Jahns found herself more
and more intrigued80 by this nomination81 of Marnes’s. It wasn’t his style, a woman from the down deep.
he held the door for her, leading out to the main waiting room, Mayor Jahns wondered if she was
going along with him because her judgment was clouded as well.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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3
timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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8
scooping
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| n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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feign
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| vt.假装，佯作 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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12
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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13
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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14
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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15
peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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16
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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17
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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18
impartial
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| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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overtime
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| adj.超时的，加班的；adv.加班地 | |
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lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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22
reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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cinder
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| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
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27
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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28
ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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buttressed
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| v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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32
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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extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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38
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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39
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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40
dented
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| v.使产生凹痕( dent的过去式和过去分词 )；损害；伤害；挫伤（信心、名誉等） | |
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41
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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42
squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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43
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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slashes
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| n.（用刀等）砍( slash的名词复数 )；（长而窄的）伤口；斜杠；撒尿v.挥砍( slash的第三人称单数 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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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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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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denim
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| n.斜纹棉布；斜纹棉布裤，牛仔裤 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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implant
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| vt.注入，植入，灌输 | |
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rote
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| n.死记硬背，生搬硬套 | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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shimmers
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| n.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的名词复数 )v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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61
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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convalescing
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| v.康复( convalesce的现在分词 ) | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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folders
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| n.文件夹( folder的名词复数 )；纸夹；（某些计算机系统中的）文件夹；页面叠 | |
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technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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punctured
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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intern
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| v.拘禁，软禁；n.实习生 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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statute
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| n.成文法，法令，法规；章程，规则，条例 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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preclude
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| vt.阻止，排除，防止；妨碍 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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intrigued
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| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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81
nomination
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| n.提名，任命，提名权 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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