Ø
“状况如何，Banks？巡逻船在哪儿？我需要观察岛屿的情况，完毕。”
He was close to yelling into his cell phone, but not quite. He was always careful not to lose his temper in front of other people, people who were supposed to look to him for composure. Today was not a day for composure. Today was a day for staunching the proverbial bleeding, tallying the losses, and keeping things from spiraling past the threshold of control. Best-case scenario, he gets to keep his job and a lot of people keep their lives. He didn’t want to consider the worst-case scenario.
他差点对着手机大吼大叫，但最终还是克制住了。他向来谨慎，不在别人面前发脾气，尤其是在那些指望他保持冷静的人面前。但今天不是讲求沉着冷静的日子。今天是要遏制住那众所周知的流血局面、清点损失，并防止事态失控的日子。最理想的情况是，他能保住职位，很多人也能保住性命。他不敢去想最坏的情况。
Ivo Caspian woke up at 6:00 to soft sunlight in his Class-A bunk at Site-184. His floor-to-ceiling windows greeted him with wispy clouds and indifferent seagulls. Coffee was pleasant, as was the brief walk from the personnel quarters to his office, across the courtyard with the water features, to the large room at the end of a rather nondescript wing tucked away in Aquatic Anomalies. He was ready for the day by 7:00. By all accounts, a quiet morning.
Ivo Caspian早上六点在Site-184的A级宿舍醒来，迎接他的是柔和的晨光。落地窗外，薄云缭绕，海鸥悠然自得。咖啡很合口，从宿舍区步行至办公室的路程也很惬意，穿过带水景的庭院，来到位于“水生异常部”一个不起眼侧翼尽头的宽敞房间。到七点，他已为新的一天做好准备。从各方面来看，这都是个平静的早晨。
Then came the phone call from a junior officer stationed at one of his responsibilities, a little island off the coast of Normandy, France. A responsibility with a numerical designation of 7900. Then came a string of follow-ups from the island’s many patrols, confirming the observations of the first. Then the call from Security Chief Sebastian Banks, head authority of the island. Then the blaring alerts on his laptop, the messages on his mobile phone, the one, then two, then three rapid response officers at his door. The call from a dispatcher at Site Control, transferred immediately to the Chief Security Officer, then to the Site Director. By 9:00 he was on a call with the North American High Command with a liaison from the Overseer Council sitting in. He took one Advil, then another, and was out the door by 10:00.
接着，他接到了驻守在其管辖范围内、法国诺曼底海岸外一座小岛的下级军官的电话。它的数字编号为7900。随后，岛上多支巡逻队接连发来消息，证实了第一通电话的观察结果。之后，岛屿总负责人、安保主管Sebastian Banks也打来电话。紧接着，他膝上的笔记本电脑发出刺耳的警报，大量信息开始轰炸他的手机，先是一人，然后两人，最后三名快速反应人员出现在他门口。控制站点的一名调度员打来电话，电话随即被转接给首席安保官，再转给了站点主管。到了九点，他正与北美最高指挥部通话，监督者议会的一名联络员也入席旁听。他吃了一片布洛芬，又吃了第二片，十点便出了门。
“It’s the island, sir. Ekhi-class development.” Ivo recalled Banks’ words in the chill tone they were delivered in. Banks had long since lost his capacity for emotion, though sometimes, in moments of passion, he was known to drop the iron facade if only for a moment. Ivo saw it once when Lee Dupont was hauled from the Devil’s Well, broken and rambling and laughing at them all, laughing at the dozens who’d been devoured by the cave. He feared Banks might let the mask slip again today.
“是那座岛，长官。Ekhi级事态。”Ivo回忆起Banks用那冷冰冰的语气说出的话。Banks早已失去了情绪表达的能力，尽管有时在情绪激动之际，他会让那副冰冷的铁面滑落片刻。Ivo曾见过一次，那是在Lee Dupont从“魔鬼井”被拖出来的时候，他精神崩溃，语无伦次，嘲笑他们所有人，嘲笑那些被洞穴吞噬的几十条生命。他担心Banks今天会再次摘下面具。
Ivo was now on a plane halfway across the Atlantic, as per the will of the Council. The matter of the island needed executive oversight. Executive oversight. The liaison who said so was a short man with thick-rimmed glasses and a gold pin on his lapel in the shape of a three-pronged circle. Though he was only a box on a screen next to a dozen other specialists in various flavors of disaster, his presence radiated authority. “Take care of this, Ivo,” the man said with uncanny composure before he disconnected himself from the call in a gesture of pompousness.
现在，Ivo正在横跨大西洋的飞机上，这是遵从议会的旨意。岛屿的事需要执行监督。执行监督。 那位联络员是个矮个子男人，戴着厚框眼镜，翻领上别着一枚三叉圆环形状的金徽章。尽管他只是屏幕上的一个方框，与另外十几位处理各类灾难的专家并列，但他的存在本身就散发着权威。“处理好这件事，Ivo。”男人以一种不可思议的镇定说道，随后傲慢地挂断了电话。
Ivo sat at the edge of a faux leather armchair. The plane, a midsize jet of German design, was made for transport, its sleek exterior slicing through the low clouds of the Atlantic. But it was built to move important people, so it was no stranger to modern amenities. He stared at a wall of screens opposite the chair. They were a barrage of light and sound, each showing the perspective of the various patrol ships all converging on the island like vultures to a festering corpse. A storm was brewing, and waves ripped upon the stony shores of the island and fell back upon the metal hulls of the ships. In his left hand he held a printout with readings of the PTX Raptor sensors installed by 7900’s final exploration crew, with timestamps of their activation. They were tripped within minutes of each other, which all but confirmed the imminent appearance of something unsavory. In his right hand he held a cell phone with a direct line to Banks.
Ivo坐在一张仿皮扶手椅的边沿。这架中型喷气式飞机是德国设计，用于运输，流线型机身正划过北大西洋的低空云层。它是为运送重要人物而造的，现代化设施一应俱全。他盯着椅子对面一整面墙的屏幕。屏幕上的光影和声音接踵而至，每个画面都显示着各艘巡逻船传来的视角，它们像秃鹫扑向腐烂的尸体一般朝着岛屿汇聚。一场风暴正在酝酿，海浪猛烈地拍打着布满岩石的海岸，又退回到舰船的金属船体上。他左手拿着一份打印件，上面是7900的最终勘探队安装的PTX猛禽传感器读数，以及它们的激活时间戳。它们在几分钟内接连被触发，这几乎证实了某种不祥之物即将现身。他右手握着手机，拨通了Banks的电话。
“状况如何？”他希望声音里的绝望不要太明显。
“Standby.” The voice of Banks was professional, verging on disconnected. The screens showed that the patrol boats were closer now. One had already landed on the rocky shore of the island, spilling its crew like ants on the sand. Banks was among them, shouting commands indiscriminately.
“待命。”Banks的声音很专业，近乎是疏离。屏幕上显示巡逻船现在更近了。一艘已经登上布满岩石的海岸，船员们像蚂蚁一样涌上沙滩。Banks就在其中，正不分对象地大声发令。
电话里传来一个声音。“我们正在安放炸药。”
Ivo想压下自己的难以置信，却没能成功。“你在干什么？不，不行，你不能那样做——”
“长官——”
“那是个活跃的神学区域，你不能就这么——”
“长官，没时间了。我已经下令了。”
“下面到底怎么了？”
“Unclear sir, but something’s coming up fast. I think it’s…” The voice trailed off. Screens showed people in Hi-Vis suits, the demolition crew, affixing squares of C-4 putty around the gaping mouth of the island’s cave. Ivo heard shouting over the phone. Bank’s voice came back hurriedly.
“不清楚，长官，但有东西在快速上浮。我觉得是……”声音渐渐低了下去。屏幕上，穿着高能见度防护服的拆弹组人员正将一块块C-4炸药贴在岛上那个洞穴张开的巨口周围。Ivo听到电话那头传来喊叫声。Bank的声音匆忙响起。
“我们——该死，我们没时间了。又一个传感器爆炸。抱歉，长官。”
“Banks，它是什么？那里面要出来什么？”
He saw chaos on the screens. People were running for cover behind rocks and boats. One lifted a detonator to Banks, who gripped it tightly. He gave one look to the yawning cave, put a hand to his ear, crouched, and flipped the switch. The island exploded in a flash of white flame. Black smoke and fire sent shockwaves rippling out across the sea. A cyclone of seabirds appeared in an instant, and the camera feeds were interrupted by a brief static. When they regained focus Ivo could tell the damage had been done. Boulders had been peeled away from the cliff face, leaving an outward bulge of debris. The cave was gone, the mouth shut. A soft whine escaped Ivo’s lips, along with some half-formed understanding that had cradled itself in his nascent dreams. He did not yet know what had been lost, but he felt its absence all the same. Something had changed in the world, something irreversible. He felt as if some invisible destiny had been postponed. He lifted the cell phone tenderly to his ear and spoke into it softly. “What’s down there?”
他看到屏幕上一片混乱。人们跑向岩石和船只后面寻找掩护。一个人把起爆器递给Banks，Banks紧紧握住。他最后看了一眼那个幽深的洞穴，一只手捂住耳朵，蹲下身，按下了开关。岛屿在白色火焰的闪光中爆炸了。黑烟和烈火掀起的冲击波迅速从海面向四面八方扩散。一群海鸟瞬间盘旋而起，摄像机画面短暂地充满了雪花。当画面重新聚焦时，Ivo看得出破坏已经酿成。巨石从崖壁上剥落，留下凹凸不平的碎石堆。洞穴消失了，洞口被封死了。Ivo的唇缝挤出一声轻微的呜咽，伴随着一种尚未成型的理解，那种理解萌芽于他初生的梦境中。他尚不知失去了什么，却设身处地地感受到了那种缺失。世界发生了什么变化，某种不可逆转的变化。他感到某种无形的命运被推迟了。他轻轻地将手机举到耳边，哑声问道：“下面是什么？”
Ivo感觉到Banks那副铁面在他的声音中裂开了。“是——是水，长官。我想是水。”
I
It had been three sunrises since John and Irving had reached the end of the beach, the point where sand gave way to blackknife rock, where the waves groped endlessly at cliffs of impossible height, each crash a gunshot to the senses. Above the din of the sea both men could hear the shrill, ever-persistent cry of divine lamentation sweep over the water like an infant foghorn. Irving had called it the voice of God, and that it was different for everyone. To John, it was a newborn left alone for too long without milk or attention. He didn’t know what it sounded like to Irving.
这是John和Irving到达沙滩尽头后的第三个日出。在沙与黑刃岩的交界处，海浪无休止地拍打着高不可攀的悬崖，每一次撞击都像是一记枪响。在涛声之上，两人都能听到那尖锐而执着的神圣悲鸣掠过水面，像是婴儿的号哭。Irving称其为神之声，这声音在每个人听来都不同。对John而言，那就像一个被遗弃太久、没有奶水也没人照看的新生儿发出的声音。他不知道在Irving听来是什么样。
Life on the beach, which had been a dreamlike haze in its early days, became more real with each passing hour. The white fish that Irving caught on the second day were starting to foul, despite their efforts to preserve the meat. Water, thankfully, was not a pressing issue. From the steady slopes opposite the ocean came shallow streams of rainwater, runoff from the cloud-cloaked peaks.
沙滩上的生活起初如梦幻般朦胧，但随着时间的推移，一切都愈发真切。尽管他们尽力保存，Irving第二天捕到的白鱼已经开始变质。所幸水不是紧迫问题。从海洋对面平缓的山坡上，浅浅的溪流缓缓淌下，源头在那云雾缭绕的山巅。
The two had decided, on Irving’s insistence, to simply wait at the end of the beach until something—anything, really—happened. To John it didn’t matter what they did or where they went. He had convinced himself, upon opening that strange door to this world, that he had already met his untimely end. Perhaps that ship had fried him with a blast of hot electricity, radiation, or ectoplasm, and he was dead. In that case, none of this really mattered at all, and the frequent physical reminders he often had of his biological needs were simply vestigial, and would quickly fade once he realized they were no longer needed.
在Irving的坚持下，两人决定就在沙滩尽头等待，直到有什么发生——真的，随便什么都好。对John来说，他们做什么、去哪里都无所谓。自从推开那扇通往这个世界的神秘大门时起，他就说服自己已经英年早逝。也许那艘船用高温电流、辐射或是灵外质把他烤熟了，他已经死了。这样的话，这一切就都无关紧要了。而那些他时常感受到的身体需求，不过是残留的幻觉，一旦他意识到不再需要它们，就会很快消失。
He had hoped Hell would have been a little more colorful. The endless gray numbed the senses, made him weak and complicit. He settled down on his patch of sand where a tattered strip of tarp provided some shelter and looked up and down the beach. Nothing. Some abrasions in the fog, and little rivets where runoff from the mountains cut the sand. He intentionally avoided the spot where Irving was praying—had been praying, for days. There he sat, a little yellow dot on the shoreline, the waves washing over his knees, his arms outstretched in religious ecstasy.
他曾希望地狱能再多彩一些。无尽的灰色让感官麻木，让他变得软弱又顺从。他在自己那片沙地上安顿下来，一块破旧的防水布为他提供了歇息，他上下打量着海滩。什么也没有。只有雾气中有着稀薄的变化，以及山间径流切割沙地留下的小沟渠。他刻意避开了Irving几天来祈祷的地方。他就坐在那里，像海岸线上的一个小黄点，海浪冲刷着他的膝盖，他双臂伸展，沉浸在宗教般的狂喜中。
"老头子！"John在沙地上喊道。"歇歇吧！睡上一觉，明天它还会在那儿的！"
那个身影纹丝不动。
"天哪，"John自言自语。
They had to find a way to continue, that much he knew. But how exactly to proceed from here eluded the both of them. They tried once, foolishly, to cross the black rocks that met them at the end of the beach, where the waves crashed and broiled. Irving had gone first, arms spread to hold his balance over the angry sea. It was no use; one slip and you would drown. They had resolved to find another way.
他们必须找到继续前行的路，这一点他很清楚。但具体该怎么做，两人都毫无头绪。他们曾愚蠢地尝试过一次，想翻过沙滩尽头的黑色礁石，海浪在那里翻涌激荡。Irving打头阵，张开双臂在汹涌的海面上维持平衡。但根本没用；只要脚一滑就会淹死。他们只好决定另寻他路。
"要不我们往回走？"两天前的晚上，两人坐在篝火前嚼着咸鱼时，John问道。"我们可以去看看我醒来那个地方后面有什么。最多一天路程。"
"没用。我去过那边了，除了沙子和旧骨头，就是水淹的废墟。我们不会回那个闹鬼的地方。而且，声音是从远处来的，"他指向大海，指向汹涌的浪涛之外。"你忘了？"
有一次他提到了山脉，说可以往上走，进入云端。Irving只是瞪了他一眼，那眼神能杀死小动物。之后John就没再提了。
于是他们就这么坐着，等待着。John消磨时间的方式越来越少。而Irving……他实在看不透这个人。前一分钟他还是个冷酷的现实主义者，哪怕有一丝危险都要否决计划。下一分钟，他就脸朝上躺在海水里，向聋聩的神明祈祷和诅咒。他几乎不吃东西，从不睡觉。只是待在那里，或蹲或坐或跪。
他觉得会发生什么呢？海水会分开让我们过去吗？会有什么东西出现载我们一程吗？如果Irving是对的，这声音真的能指引出离开这里的路，一条回家的路……那怎么祈祷都不为过。也许我也该过去加入他。毕竟，“两双手总比一双强”。
此刻，John向后靠去，在沙地上伸展开身体。沙子很柔软，不算太硌人。舒服得足以睡上几小时，尽管他总在深夜的奇怪时刻醒来，觉得海岸线上有什么动静。
He let his eyes close, let his mind wander from thought to thought. Home, the boys at 184. What will they all think if I get out of here? Do I want to know? He remembered a man named Lee Dupont who had been detained somewhere at 184 after suffering some kind of breakdown on the job. He couldn’t remember much else; all the information on that was need-to-know, of course. But something about the story sounded eerily similar to the imagery around him. He had heard once from a security guard of some sublevel detention block of the physical changes in Dupont. He had, somehow, grown fins. Some were calling him the resident Mermaid. Then he remembered the corpse they had found on their walk here; the shriveled, dried-out skin with a whale’s tail. Surely they couldn’t be the same, he thought. Right?
他闭上眼睛，任由思绪从一个念头飘到另一个。家，184站的那帮伙计。如果我真能离开这里，他们会怎么想？我想知道吗？他想起一个叫Lee Dupont的人，他在工作中遭遇了某种崩溃后被关押在184站的某个地方。至于别的，他记不清了。当然，所有相关信息都是机密。但那件事的某些细节，与他周围的景象有着惊人的相似之处。他曾经听某个下层拘留区的安保说过Dupont身体上的变化。不知怎的，他长出了鳍。有人管他叫常驻”美人鱼“。接着他想起了来这里的路上发现的那具尸体；那干瘪、枯槁的皮肤和鲸鱼的尾巴。肯定不一样，他想。对吧？
His mind drifted to the mountains, those impossibly tall and impenetrable cliffs that shadowed all. What had Irving called them? Bad luck? Yet, as he often did when commanded to ignore something, he found himself thinking of them and what lies beneath. There’s lots of room for tunnels. And if there had been people there once, maybe they yet live?
他的思绪飘向山脉，那些高不可攀、无法逾越的悬崖，阴影覆盖一切。Irving管那叫什么？厄运？然而，就像每次被命令忽视什么时一样，他发现自己还是忍不住去想那些山，想山脚下藏着什么。那里空间大到足够有隧道。如果曾经有人住在那里，说不定他们还活着？
And then there was the moon, etched so strangely into that book in the burned shack from days before. Of course, the moon and stars were invisible down on the beach; the fog was too thick. But beyond, high on the peaks, perhaps not. Irving… he would never allow it. Especially not with what he claims is on the other side—the wall of fire. Finally, he found himself thinking of the boat that brought him here to begin with. The Dread Ship. What was it doing out there, in the middle of nowhere? Was it waiting for me?
还有月亮，几天前在烧毁的小屋那本书里，月亮被刻得那么古怪。当然，在海滩上是看不到月亮和星星的；雾太浓了。但在高处，山峰之上，也许能看到。Irving……他绝不会允许的。尤其是考虑到他声称山的另一边有什么——火墙。最后，他的思绪又回到了最初把他带到这儿的那艘船上。那艘骇船。它在那个荒无人烟的地方做什么？是在等我吗？
那些问题，那些无尽的、循环着、跳跃着的问题……
II
“以圣母的慈悲发誓！诸神啊，如果这不是至高神灵的旨意，就收走我污浊的灵魂吧！它就在这里！小子！”
喊声从海滩的黑暗中传来。John揉了揉惺忪的睡眼，坐起身来。身旁还剩一小堆篝火的余烬。
“小子？小子！”Irving从雾气弥漫的夜色中现身，身上沾着一团团湿沙。“起来！你看不见这个吗？你看不懂这意味着什么吗？”
“等等，别——”John想要站起来，但老人已经冲到他跟前，架着他的腋窝把他拽起来，拖向海浪轰鸣的方向。
“看，该死的，快看！”Irving跑了起来，两人随即被黑暗吞没。咔嗒一声，一小簇火苗亮起，照亮了Irving的脸和胸膛。他一只手拢着火苗，举在身前，放慢脚步，小心翼翼地走着。
“睁大眼睛看仔细了，小子，”Irving的呼吸因兴奋而发颤。“你可不想被它绊倒。”
“被什么绊倒？我们到底在——哇！”John惊叫一声，摔倒在地上，撞到了什么硬物。他在黑暗中摸索，摸到了木头特有的纹理。Irving笑了起来。
“没错，她就在这儿！”火苗暗了一下，又猛地蹿起。Irving举起一盏小玻璃提灯，里面的灯芯正亮着。
John四仰八叉地躺在一条划艇里。Irving还在笑，他检查着船身。
“哦，她难道不美吗？完美的形状，严丝合缝。我像你这么大时自己就有一条，用来捕晚餐的小船。我叔叔会带我坐这种船出海，不捕到三倍所需的鱼，我们绝不回家吃晚饭。”
“这从哪里——”John找到一木座椅，坐正身子，揉着撞青的胳膊肘。“这东西怎么到这儿来的？是被冲上来的吗？”
Irving耸耸肩。“最好别问为什么，小子，免得我们质疑神的旨意。来！出来帮我推！”
“什么？现在？”
“对，就是现在！难不成你怕黑？”
“等等——”John跨出船，转身往营地走。“让我先去拿补给。”他远离Irving的提灯，艰难地穿过夜色。黑暗令人窒息，浓雾吞没了所有声音。只剩下一种微弱的、像呼吸一样的气息，从——
John僵住了。虽然看不见，但他感觉到了那个存在，就在黑暗中他身旁不远处。他能感觉到空气来回流动，仿佛有什么东西在呼吸。他缓缓后退，小心不要绊倒自己。那团东西向前挪动，谨慎而刻意地跟着他的步伐。John加快了速度。他感到沙地在震动，有什么沉重的东西压进了地面。接着又是一下。他偷偷朝身后瞥了一眼。Irving还在远处，正忙着修理船上的什么东西。
The thing in the dark edged forward, faster now, closing the distance. Some deep-seated instinct kicked in then. At first, John thought it was the training all Site personnel had to undergo at 184, the standard self-defense and survival tricks that everyone knew to some degree. But this was different. With the darkness closing in like an oncoming train, something primal took over his muscles, commanding him not to think, not to rationalize the situation, but to run.
黑暗中的东西加快了速度，现在更快了，正在拉近距离。某种深植于本能的反应就在这时被触发了。起初，John以为这是184站所有人员都要接受的训练，某种人人都得掌握的标准自卫和求生技巧。但这次不一样。黑暗像迎面驶来的火车一样碾压过来，某种原始的力量接管了他的肌肉，命令他不要思考，不要分析，而是跑。
他转过身，就在那团东西似乎要扑上来的时候，冲了出去。
“IRVING！”他大喊，声音从某种超出其自然极限的地方迸发出来。“推！”
老人立刻明白了，John跑近时，看到他黄色的雨衣在拼命地晃动着。
身后的东西比他慢，是个巨大、笨拙的东西，却带着捕食者的本能。等他冲到船边时，海浪已经舔上了他们的脚踝。
“推！推！”Irving吼叫着。“什么海鬼都别想趁现在抓走我！推！”
船在沙地上滑行，随即被水托起。撞上浪头时，要不是Irving抓得紧，他们差点失控。身后的东西意识到自己错失了良机，追到海岸线便不再向前。
“就是现在！嘿！进去，快进去！”Irving示意John上船，一边扶着他翻过船沿，一边保持着船向前的动能。John翻滚进去，挣扎着坐稳，回头望向沙滩和那如深渊般的黑暗。
Irving was still pushing, out of breath. John could hear the old man wheezing with every step. It was odd, this shift in power, for now it was he who was in control. From up here, Irving looked just as he was: an old, weak, shivering thing, panting as he struggled helplessly against the surf. But in that struggle he saw his salvation, their way out. Insane he may be. But he had saved his life, and he would stop at nothing to do it again. Smiling, filled with a newfound trust, John held out his hand and Irving gripped it tight.
Irving还在推，气喘吁吁。John能听到老人每走一步都在喘息。权力的天平此刻发生了奇怪的转变，现在掌控局面的人变成了他。从船上往下看，Irving看起来和以前一模一样：一个年老体衰、瑟瑟发抖的老人，在浪涛中无助地挣扎喘气。但就在这挣扎之中，John看到了他的救赎，他们离开这里的出路。他或许是疯了。但他救了自己的命，为了做到这件事，他会不惜一切代价。John笑了，心中涌起一种全新的信任，他伸出手，Irving紧紧握住了它。
III
The cold sun beat pale rays through the heavy clouds. Its maddening white light turned the sea to diamonds, each whitecap rolling like rows of glittering soldiers off to some distant war. Hours after the encounter on the beach, the pair now drifted through the open sea, land long having faded into mist.
冷日透过厚重的云层投下苍白的光线。那令人目眩的白光将海面化作钻石，每一道白浪都像一排排闪耀的士兵，奔赴遥远的战场。海滩上的遭遇过去数小时后，两人在开阔的海面上漂流，陆地早已隐没在雾霭之中。
John rested at the bow of the old rowboat, hands braced on both its edges. He scanned the endless fog for any variation in the monochrome, hoping to see something. Irving sat at the boat’s rear, pulling a heavy plank of rotten wood back, forth, mindlessly. He stared somewhere off onto the horizon, seeing all and nothing. John felt a deeper gaze from those eyes, looking inward instead of out. Whatever he saw wasn’t something to be looked at, John sensed. In his pocket, he felt the weight of the rose pearl, felt it roll against his skin with the rocking of the boat. And across those waves, that bleating sound again. The cry of an infant God waxed and waned through the mist, but was always present. A ghostly hand that pulled them through the fog.
John坐在旧划艇的船头歇息，双手撑在船沿两侧。他扫视着无尽的浓雾，试图在单调的灰白中寻找任何变化，期盼能看见些什么。Irving坐在船尾，心不在焉地将一块沉重的朽木船板来回划动。他凝视着远方海平线的某处，仿佛洞悉一切，又仿佛什么都没看到。John觉得那双眼睛透着一股深邃，并非向外张望，而是向内审视。他隐约感觉，Irving所见的并非什么实在的物象。口袋里的那颗玫瑰珍珠沉甸甸的，随着船身的摇晃在他皮肤上滚动。海浪那头，哀鸣声再次响起。那初生神明的哭声在雾中时强时弱，却从未断绝。如同一只幽灵的手，牵引着他们穿过迷雾。
Irving那如同节拍器般的划桨不止一次将John送入梦乡，但那声音总在他即将沉入睡眠时骤然清晰。Irving则始终未曾合眼。
A gust of wind picked up and the boat tilted with the movement of the waves, water dribbling in where the wood sank below the whitecaps. Foam splashed against John’s face, and he raised a hand to block against the gust. Suddenly unsturdy, he thrust out an arm to steady himself on something, anything, but found no purchase. Irving lept, catching him by the fringes of his clothing before he could tumble over the edge. He hung for a moment in the air, flailing, peering down at the grey sea. Shapes wiggled beneath, darting in and out of blackness. At once, the sea became alive where it had once been barren. Seeing movement where his mind had assumed there to be none, the world became expansive in its possibilities and its terror. He was back in the boat, flat on his ass, before more than a second, but to him it had felt an eternity.
一阵风刮起，船随着海浪倾斜，船板沉入白浪之处有水渗了进来。泡沫溅到John脸上，他抬起手试图遮挡风浪。突然一个踉跄，他猛地伸出一只手臂想抓住什么来稳住自己，却什么也够不着。Irving跃起，在他跌出船前一把揪住了他的衣边。John在空中悬了片刻，挣扎着低头望向灰蒙蒙的大海。阴影中有什么东西在蠕动，在黑暗中若隐若现。霎时间，原本死寂的海面变得生机勃勃。他原本以为毫无生气的地方，此刻却出现了动静，整个世界都变得充满可能，同时也潜藏着恐惧。不过一秒钟，他就被拽回了船里，一屁股跌坐在地，但对他来说那一瞬间漫长得像是永恒。
Irving一言不发，似乎失去了训斥的意愿或能力。两人之前就吃得很少，如今存粮已彻底耗尽，只剩下几块鲸鱼肉供他们偶尔嚼上两口。那肉硬得像橡胶，寡淡无味，还油腻腻的。但正如Irving很久以前在沙滩上所说，这肉总还有些营养价值。
John’s heart calmed from his brush with the fathom beyond the boat, and he turned to the burlap sacks that lay amongst their feet. Three in total, and each had already been thoroughly combed through several times thus far. John opened them and spilled their contents anyway, hoping to find something they’d missed before. Rolling across the wood were three green-tinted bottles, empty and foul-smelling. A lighter with a mermaid engraving, with a little juice left. A fishhook and some loose wire. Some cans with faded labels, their uncertain contents long since eaten by the pair. Some useless junk, possibly the remains of a crab pot or some other fishing gear.
John从那场与船外深渊的擦肩而过中平复了心跳，转而翻看脚边的几只粗麻布袋。总共三只，每只都已反复搜过好几遍。他还是把袋子打开，把里面的东西都倒了出来，希望能找到之前遗漏的什么。三个泛着绿光的玻璃瓶滚落在船板上，空空的，散发着难闻的气味；一个刻着美人鱼图案的打火机，还剩一点油；一只鱼钩和一些散落的金属线；几罐标签已经褪色的罐头，里面不知装过什么，早就被两人吃光了；还有一些没用的杂物，可能是捕蟹笼或其他渔具的残骸。
And then the thing that had surprised both of them. Irving had never seen anything like it, though he likened it to a tool he observed once in a woodworker’s shop near his childhood home. John recognized the flare gun instantly, its bright orange plastic and distinctive reflective tape marking it for emergency use only. He had explained the function of the tool to Irving: “It makes light, like a small, contained fire, in the direction you point it.” He was careful about his words, as he did not fully trust the other man. Nor did he really know the full capabilities of such a device, outside of its standard use as a signal. Could it stop an approaching mass? Could it kill if we need something to die? He doubted it.
然后就是那件让两人都吃了一惊的东西。Irving从未见过类似之物，尽管他说这让他想起小时候老家附近一家木匠铺里见过的某种工具。John却一眼认出那是把信号枪，亮橙色的塑料和标志性的反光胶带表明它仅供紧急情况下使用。他向Irving解释了它的用途：“它会产生光亮，就像一团可控的火苗，指向你瞄准的方向。”他措辞很谨慎，因为他并未完全信任对方。而且，除了作为信号灯之外，他其实也不清楚这东西到底有多大能耐。它能阻挡逼近的庞然大物吗？万一需要杀死什么东西，它能派上用场吗？他对此表示怀疑。
此刻，他拿起信号枪检查了一番。里面还装着一发，只能开一枪。他将信号枪别在腰间并扣好，希望需要时能快速用上。
This strange discrepancy in time, the way the objects of this world seemed to mesh together incorrectly, puzzled John greatly. It had occurred to him more than once that navigating this place felt like trudging through some half-remembered dream. The way everything felt so artificial, yet undeniably in possession of an ancient wisdom. There was a fundamental truth here, in these waters, one that terrified and intrigued. Yet the construction of everything around the waves, from the people to the boats, felt more like laughable caricatures of its setting than anything real. It’s true that he’d come to trust Irving since their first encounter, but his burning eyes and rubbery coat never failed to remind him of a dusty antique in the back of a pawn shop. As if the world could be unraveled with a simple twist of perspective.
这种时间上的错位感，这个世界里各种事物似乎以错误方式拼凑在一起的感觉，让John困惑不已。他不止一次觉得，在这个地方穿行就像跋涉于某个记忆模糊的梦境中。一切都如此刻意虚假，却又无可否认地蕴含着某种古老的智慧。这片海域里存在着某种根本性的真相，既令人恐惧，又引人着迷。然而，这海浪所及的一切，无论人或船，都透着一种滑稽的夸张漫画感，与真实相去甚远。的确，自初次相遇以来，他已渐渐开始信任Irving，但老人那双灼人的眼睛和那件橡胶质地的雨衣，总让他想起当铺角落里落满灰尘的古董。仿佛只要轻轻扭转一下视角，整个世界就会分崩离析。
“喂，左边，看那边。”Irving突然开口，从恍惚中回过神来，他的手指抽搐了一下，指向雾中的某处。
John registered movement, the subtle crest of a wave breaking the pattern in the whitecaps. A force, growing steadily, and headed in their direction. John wanted to move the boat, to shuffle it out of the way, but Irving sat still as a frigid paralysis took hold of his body. John said nothing, stifling his panic as he felt vibrations rattle the underside of the boat. Small impacts glanced off the wood and continued on to unknown depths. The wave of movement built in intensity, and the impacts became sharper, more desperate. The stampede crescendoed until it felt like the boat might tip over. John could see ripples in the surface of the water, sleek fins protruding and then disappearing.
John察觉到了动静，一道细微的波纹打破了白浪的规律。一股力量正在稳步增强，正朝他们的方向涌来。John想移动小船，想把它划开避让，但Irving却一动不动，仿佛一阵冰冷的麻痹攫住了他的身体。John没有说话，强压下心中的恐慌，感觉到船底传来阵阵震动。轻微的撞击擦过木板，随即蔓延至未知的深处。那股涌流越来越猛，撞击也变得愈发剧烈、愈发急切。涌流的冲击力达到了高潮，小船几乎要被掀翻。John看见水面上泛起涟漪，光滑的鱼鳍时隐时现。
“Hold on, lad!” Irving lifted his oar from the water and gripped the edges of the boat. John did the same, crouching, straining to see anything distinct in the water. The surface all around them buzzed, shapes ejecting inches and then feet into the air. Something leapt in front of them, slamming into John before sliding to the deck. He flinched, recoiling, but steadied himself. Slime covered his face and clothes, and he fought the urge to wipe it off, continuing to grip the splintering wood with white knuckles. A heavy shape glided past, chasing the buzzing sea, followed by a bulge of displaced water. The sudden movement sent the boat into an unsteady rock. John twisted behind and saw the shape once more, watched it crest the surface and flash a barnacled hide and a bony, pale arm. A moment later it was gone.
“抓紧了，小子！”Irving将桨从水中提起，紧紧抓住船沿。John照做了，他蹲下身，努力想看清水中任何确切的东西。周围的水面嗡嗡作响，有东西跃出水面，先是几寸，然后是几尺高。有什么东西从船前跃起，撞在John身上，然后滑落到甲板上。他吓了一大跳，向后躲闪，但还是稳住了自己。黏液糊了他一身，他强忍着擦掉的冲动，继续用发白的指节攥着那开裂的木板。一个沉重的身影滑过，追逐着波涛汹涌的海面，身后留下一道翻涌的水波。这突如其来的动静让小船撞上了一块不稳的礁石。John扭身向后望去，再次看到了那个黑影，看着它浮出水面，露出布满藤壶的身子和一条骨瘦如柴的苍白手臂。片刻之后，它便消失了。
A wetness glistened from Irving’s eyes, and he reached to wipe it away. “Blessed be.” Irving’s voice trembled. “What a day to see a chosen. Not many of ‘em left, I wager. Might be, them’s one of the old of the faith. From before the rapture.”
Irving的眼角闪着泪光，他伸手擦去。“赞美上苍。”Irving的声音颤抖着。“能亲眼见到一位天选者，这是怎样的一天啊。我敢说，它们剩下的已经不多了。说不定，那是旧时的信徒，从神升之日前就存在。”
“什么时候……”John盯着那只手指曾短暂触碰空气的地方。“这一切什么时候变得正常了？什么时候变成了理所当然？变成值得渴望的东西了？”
“我不知道你在说什么，小子。”但他的脸上分明露出了认同，那是一种对John内心世界崩塌的微妙理解。“事情本就是这样。我们只是……从来都不知道。直到现在。”
“你说过你像我一样看见过这个地方。在我的梦里，在我意识深处。它盘踞着，潜伏着，随时要倾泻而出。在我的时代——过去还是未来，我不知道，也永远不会知道——我被一艘船带到了这里。那艘船是有意识和知觉的。如果我是为了某个目的被带到这里——”
Irving interrupted. “There’s always purpose, boy. Yes, I was brought here too. But little do I remember of a time before. I… I believe now that I was made here, and only a visitor of other places. My life, my love, lies here. As it does for you.”
Irving打断了他。“凡事都有目的，小子。对，我也是被带到这里的。但从前的事我几乎不记得了。我……我相信我是在这里被造出来的，而其他地方我只是个过客。我的生命，我的挚爱，都在这里。对你来说也是一样。”
A sound rattled from the deck. John lifted one of the sacks to reveal a slime-drenched fish, eel-shaped and squirming. A breathlessness hissed from its sucker mouth, and the spines lining its body glittered like shards of broken glass. John edged back as far as the rim of the boat, Irving holding the oar defensively.
甲板上传来一阵响动。John掀开一只麻袋，露出下面一条浑身黏液、鳗鱼形状的鱼，鱼正扭动着身子。它那吸盘般的嘴里发出嘶嘶的喘息声，沿着身体排列的棘刺像碎玻璃一样闪闪发光。John退到了船沿，Irving则举着桨，摆出防御的姿态。
“那是鲤鱼，小子。离它远点。我见过它的鳍把人活活划开。”
The fish twisted in on itself, roiling on the deck. As it wound itself tighter, John heard an awful tearing sound. The thing had twisted itself into such a knot that its flank had ripped open from the tension, spilling glassy tubes onto the deck. Without a moment’s hesitation, the fish looped its head around its serpentine body and began scooping up its own entrails with its twitching mouth, sucking up the matter only to eject it from its mortal wound. It continued to twist until it had severed itself completely in half, each end writhing. Irving, out of pity for the animal or simple annoyance, reached with the oar and flung it off the ship. Where it landed, John spotted crazed movement, and the carcass vanished.
那条鱼将自己缠紧，在甲板上翻滚着。随着身体越收越紧，John听见一声可怕的撕裂声。那东西把自己扭成了一个结，以至于侧腹在张力下划开了一道口子，玻璃般透亮的内脏流到了甲板上。那鱼毫不犹豫地将头绕过自己蛇形的身体，开始用抽搐的嘴吞食自己的内脏，将它们吸进去，又从致命的伤口处排出来。它继续扭动，直到将自己彻底折成两截，断掉的两半各自痉挛着。Irving不知是出于对那动物的怜悯，还是单纯不耐烦，用桨把它拨出了船外。在它落水的地方，John看见一阵疯狂的骚动，那具尸体便消失了。
Irving察觉到John的厌恶，用粗糙的手按住了他的胳膊。“这是个教训。有一件事，唯一的一件事，是所有行为的驱动力。那就是生存。所有生命从这片水域中诞生，都带着生存的意图。为了进食，为了成长，为了……”他似乎在搜寻一个词。“进化。是的，为了进化。这就是规则，神最伟大的恩赐。最好现在就把这个弄明白，趁我们还没有走得更深。”
IV
我不在乎。要是真没办法，你就喝自己的尿吧。
The words came from somewhere beyond, a dark corner of John’s mind, brought forth in the hazy delirium of dehydration. The voice might have been Randal Karter’s, a face from his old life. Or it could have been someone else, some anonymous voice in a rec room seeped in drunken stupor. Those familiar rituals, those common spaces of life and habitation seemed utterly alien now.
这些话语来自遥远的彼方，来自John意识中一个阴暗的角落，在脱水导致的恍惚呓语中浮现出来。那声音听起来像是Randal Karter的，那个来自他旧生活里的面孔。又或许是别的什么人，某个从休息室里传来的、醉醺醺的匿名声音。那些熟悉的仪式，那些生活与居住的公共空间，如今看来竟显得如此陌生。
John wondered if they had all been imagined. How much can I afford to forget before I become like him? He glanced sideways at the other man in the boat, who had hours ago given up the futile effort of steering the vessel. The two lay on the deck now, sprawled, limbs dangling limply above the water.
John怀疑那些是否都只是幻觉。在变得像他一样之前，我还能承担得起遗忘掉多少东西？他侧过头，瞥了一眼船上的另一个男人。那人早在几个小时前就放弃了徒劳的掌舵尝试。此时两人都瘫在甲板上，四肢无力地悬垂在水面上方。
As John gazed skyward, he noticed—or perhaps imagined—a spontaneous break in the hanging fog, a parting, and above the white mist draped the suggestion of a blue sky. It was gone in an instant, but John clung to the memory, burned it into his eyelids so that he might not forget the vision of the open sky.
当John凝视天空时，他注意到——或者说是幻象——那层层堆叠的浓雾中出现了一道突兀的裂缝。迷雾散开，在那白色的雾霭之上，透出了一抹蓝天。这景象转瞬即逝，但John死死抓住了这段记忆，将其灼烧在眼瞳里，唯恐忘却那片开阔的天空。
“Irving.” He struggled to form the words. His throat burned, his lips stung. Every patch of exposed skin hurt from the constant exposure to the bleak sun. “Irving. We need water. We need…” He didn’t bother finishing the sentence.
“Irving。”他挣扎着挤出声音。喉咙如火烧一般，嘴唇刺痛。每一寸裸露在外的皮肤都因为持续暴露在无遮掩的烈日下而隐隐作痛。“Irving……我们需要水。我们需要……”他没力气把话说完。
Irving挪动了身子，但没有坐起来。“海水有毒。要命的不是盐分，你能明白？这水就是不行。”
“总得……总得有点什么。”
“肉都没了，孩子。”
John forced himself up, began to rummage through the scattered junk on the deck. “Something… something.” He moved closer to Irving, and noticed a small Mason jar tucked between the folds of the man’s rubber coat. “What’s that?”
John挣扎着爬起身，开始在甲板上散乱的杂物中翻找。“总得有点……有点什么。”他挪到Irving身边，注意到这男人的橡胶外衣褶皱里夹着一个小梅森罐。“那是什么？”
他伸手去拿，却被对方一掌拍开。
“不是给我们喝的，孩子。相信我。”
“起码告诉我那是什么。”口中泛起一股独特的桃子味，但紧接着被那股带他们支撑到现在的、刺鼻的白色生肉味取代。
“这东西……”他举起罐子。它只有手掌大小，玻璃因年代久远而发暗，里面的东西难以分辨。“这是纯鲸油。是一件……护身符。”
“我们要死了。我们得喝点东西。管它是什么，我不在乎。”
Irving盯着它，将其举向光亮处，看着内里折射出的虹彩碎片在跃动。
“Irving。这能吃吗？”
“能吃？”他慢吞吞地重复着这个词，仿佛这词对他而言很陌生。“能吃。是的，能吃。”
“那还有什么问题？”
“只是……”他迟疑了，声音微微颤栗。“这是恶兆，你明白吗。喝下天使之血会招来厄运。”
“噢，看在上帝的份上——”
那一记耳光扇得极重，如同闪电。John被Irving的巴掌打得向后一缩，只见那男人的眼中燃起怒火。
“If you’re proposing blasphemy, boy, you best have the decency to hold your tongue. These are no mortal matters. High heaven, Lord above, if we do what you say we do, dying of thirst is the only mercy I reckon we both deserve.” With that, he twisted the lid from the jar, inhaled its contents, and inverted it. He drank deeply, then slumped.
“小子，如果你打算亵渎神灵，最好放尊重点，闭上你的臭嘴。这可不是凡人的事。苍天在上，主在看，要是我们真的做了你提议的事，我想渴死才是对我俩唯一的仁慈。”说完，他拧开了罐盖，深吸了一口，然后将罐子倒过来。他痛饮而下，随即瘫倒在地。
John scurried to catch the jar as it slipped from his hand. Holding it, he gazed inside and saw patterns of light, a whole ocean of color, roiling like an ancient sea. As he drank, his mind drifted to the bony fingers, the pale mass that brushed past their meager vessel. When the flavor overwhelmed him, soaking his throat in rancid ichor, he fell, as if drunk, into a deep sleep.
John赶忙接住从他手中滑落的罐子。他握着罐子朝里望去，看见了层层叠叠的光影，一片色彩斑斓的汪洋，如远古的海水般翻涌。当他仰头喝下时，意识渐渐飘远，想到了那瘦骨嶙峋的手指，想到了那个擦过他们简陋小船的苍白躯体。当那股味道席卷全身，陈腐的粘液浸透喉咙时，他如同醉酒一般沉沉睡去。
V
The bottom of the sea was warmer than he’d thought. John woke cross-legged in the dark, a low rumble filling his ears. He felt the sensation of pressure all around him, pushing down, choking, yet he did not feel afraid. He moved his hands and felt coarse sand and pebbles shift beneath his palms, saw tufts of sand kick up as his eyes adjusted. It was warm, somehow. A gentle temperature. He stood and felt weightless, his body rising by degrees higher than he typically stood. Around he surveyed the flat expanse, took note of the gradual slope of the undersea dunes and the suggestion of jagged rocks in the distance. It was dark, so pitifully dark, yet John could see far.
海底比他想的更暖和。John在黑暗中盘腿醒来，低沉的嗡鸣充斥着双耳。他感到来自四面八方的力推压着他，却没有感到恐惧。他移动双手，感受到掌下粗糙的沙子和砾石，随着眼睛逐渐适应，他看见一簇簇沙尘扬起。这里居然很温暖，温度宜人。他站起身来，感觉身体轻飘飘的，身体仿佛比平时站着还要高出几分。环顾四周风平浪静的浩瀚，他注意到海底沙丘平缓的起伏，远处隐约可见嶙峋的岩石。光线昏暗，暗得可怜，但John能望得很远。
他抬头望去，看见一圈深蓝色的光晕，点缀着远处幽灵般的光束。他一定在海面下数英里处。这景象让他一阵眩晕。我淹死了吗？出了什么意外？恐惧如胆汁般涌上喉头，他四下寻找小船和老人的踪迹。
在那儿！沙地里立着一块碎裂的木板。他滑行过去，脚却被什么东西绊住了。尘埃落定，露出一具被蠕虫啃食干净的骨架。
他的心中涌出一股解脱，蹲下身去触摸那些骨头。好。很好。一切都好。
现在骨头包围了他，指骨像鳗鱼一样从沙地里钻出来。一股暗流搅动了海床，上百个骷髅头显现出来，凝视着遥远的海面。人类的遗骸与其他东西的遗骸混杂在一起，拼凑出崭新而怪诞的形状。John转动身体，每转上一圈，遍地的尸骸便扩大一分。头顶上方，骸骨如雨点般纷纷扬扬，随着汹涌的海水漂流。
John无法解释这个念头。这话语在脑海中回响着，自身便生成了意义，迫使世界遵从它的逻辑。本该如此。这就是我该看见的。所有人都在这里。
Everyone is here. Everyone is here. Everyone. He bent down and picked up Irving’s skull, dusting the sand off. It amazed him how delicately it fit in his palm. He let it go, let it drift away and turn to sand. Looking closely he saw that all the bones were turning to sand, that all the sand was made from this ineffable process. This understanding felt like a knife thrust into his skull.
所有人都在这里。所有人都在这里。所有人。他弯下腰，捡起Irving的头骨，拂去上面的沙子。他惊异于它能如此精巧地贴合在掌心里。他松开手，让它漂走，化为尘埃。放眼望去，他看见所有骨头都在化为沙砾，而所有沙砾都是通过这般不可名状的过程形成的。这领悟像一把刀插进了他的头颅。
Everything sunk. Or fell away. Or was dragged down. Or he was lifted, plucked. He saw the bonefield widen as he soared, realizing with a heavy stomach just how much it was. Infinity in all directions. He felt massive now, felt the water displace around him. Though he was closer to the surface, it still remained a distant thing. So far away it might have never existed.
一切都在下沉。或者说在消逝。或者说在被拖入深处。又或者说，是他自己被托起，被什么东西拔了起来。他看见那片骨原随着他的上升而延伸，胃里一阵翻腾，这才意识到它有多么辽阔。四面八方都是无垠的骨骸。此刻他感觉自己无比庞大，感觉到海水在他身侧排开。虽然离海面更近了，海面却依然遥不可及。远到仿佛从未存在过。
These are no mortal matters. Irving was there now, floating next to him. His pearlescent skin reflected the meager sunlight elegantly. Don’t be afraid. You’re drunk on that slime, boy. Sleeping like a babe. He twirled, flexing his slender body.
这并非凡俗之事。Irving出现了，漂浮在他身旁。他珍珠般光泽的皮肤优雅地反射着微弱的阳光。别害怕。你不过是喝了那粘液，小子。你睡得像个婴儿一样香甜。他转了个圈，舒展着修长的身体。
我们是什么？
Calves, boy. Just calves. You see it now, finally. You see this green sea for what it is. With slender arms, he cradled a handful of sand, held it up to his head. Watch, Johnny. He exhaled water through his baleen, dispersing the sand. In its place fluttered a thin, metallic fish, emerging from the grime. You can do this too, if you want. And so much more. You can do it all. I’ve never seen an angel like you, Johnny. All that imagination. Come on, why don’t ya? Give her a try.
幼崽，小子。不过是幼崽。你终于看见了。你终于看清这片碧绿之海的真面目。他用细长的双臂捧起一把沙子，举到面前。看好了，Johnny。他用鲸须呼出水来，将沙粒吹散。一条细小的金属鱼从尘埃中扑闪着出现。你也可以做到，只要你愿意。而且远不止这些，你可以做所有的事。我从未见过像你这样的天使，Johnny。你的想象无垠。来吧，何不试试？试一下吧。
John held out his hands, spun them, and collected sand from the current. His fingers were long and bony, like Irving’s. He clasped his palms together and felt a buzzing from within. From within his hands he felt the bursting of a thousand fish, a thousand thousand, enough to fill the sea. Irving laughed as the fish emerged, circled, and disappeared into the blue.
John伸出双手，翻转手腕，从水流中聚拢沙粒。他的手指像Irving的一样，细长而嶙峋。他合拢掌心，感到里面有什么在嗡鸣。从他的掌中，他感到千万条鱼在迸发，千千万万条，足以填满整片海洋。Irving大笑起来，鱼群涌出，盘旋，消失在蔚蓝之中。
All of creation, boy. Made from the dust of life. Do you see it now? Do you see the cycle? The power to kill, to create; it’s all the same. This is what we seek. The ability to become, the ability to fathom. The voice of God calls us, and we answer. You and I, Johnny. Pulled from our times and brought here for the purpose of comprehension. It is a select gift.
万物的创造，小子。都用生命的尘埃造就。你现在看见了吗？看见这轮回了吗？杀戮的力量，创造的力量，本就是一体。这就是我们追寻之物。拥有的能力，领悟的能力。神的声音呼唤我们，我们便回应。你和我，Johnny。我们从各自的时代被牵引而来，带到这里，是为了领悟。这是上天赐予的礼物。
John shook his head. But that’s what they all say, isn’t it? Do we not reside in but one God’s domain? There must be others. There must be. The walker on the moon. The host of fires. The orange star. Ask any of their prophets and they will say they are the chosen. As you claim yourself.
John摇了摇头。可所有人不都这么说吗？难道我们只生活在一个神的领域里？必定还有其他神。必定有。那月亮漫步者。那万火之主。那橙色的星辰。去问他们中任何一个的先知，都会说自己是天选之子。正如你这般自诩。
You doubt. I did too. After the first kill, the second. Only whale meat to me. But then I opened my eyes. Drank up. The salt burns, and then it clarifies. Look around! Is this not beautiful? Life! Sick, twisted life, slogged from the mire only to return when called. That is who we are. We have simply reached the end of our cycle, and now we must return.
你心存怀疑。我也曾如此。第一次杀戮之后，接着是第二次。对我来说只有鲸肉。但后来我睁开了眼睛。饮下海水。盐灼烧着我的喉咙，然后便明晰了。看看四周吧！难道这不美吗？生命！这病态、扭曲的生命，从泥沼中挣扎而出，只在被召唤时归来。这就是我们的本质。我们不过是走到了轮回的尽头，现在必须回归了。
可你心怀渴望，Irving。你在渴望着。
Irving点了点头。他修长的身体弯成弧线，倒悬着漂浮起来。
I do, Johnny. It is only my breed of madness. When the Dread Ship plucked me from my old life it called me The Whaler. I will kill, Johnny. I must drive the harpoon into its eye. When we trace that anguished cry to its source, you’ll see. I have a hunger. And a purpose. Who’s to say God deserves to be an exception to its own rule? All things return to this green sea.
我确实如此，Johnny。这只是我的疯狂。当那艘骇船把我从旧日的生活中攫走时，它唤我作捕鲸人。我将杀戮，Johnny。我必须将鱼叉刺入它的眼睛。等我们循着那痛苦的哀鸣找到源头，你便会明白。我心中充满了渴望。还有一个使命。谁说神就该在它自己定下的法则之外呢？万物终将回归这片碧绿之海。
John的头开始剧痛，嘴里尝到苦涩的油腥味。海水骤然变冷，视线迅速模糊起来。他感到一阵来回的晃动，以及翻涌的恶心感。
让我们把这事了结吧，小子。Irving说着，沉入深处。他的身体消失于幽暗之中，指尖划过，声音却久久不散。我们就快到了。我能看见那座岛了，塔楼燃烧得如此明亮。饮下吧，小子。这将是壮丽的一刻。饮下它。饮吧。
VI
冰冷的水入喉，灌满了他的口腔，将那股恶心的味道冲刷殆尽。梦境中的黑暗褪去，他周围的世界渐渐浮现。先是黑白分明的形状与遥远模糊的声音，接着，一只手覆上他的脸颊，水流沿着下巴和破烂的衣领淌下，色彩随之而来。
“再喝点。”Irving站在他身旁说道。他倒了一杯又一杯，杯子似乎永远不会空。
水的味道清冽甘甜。John动了动，想坐起身来，却觉得浑身乏力。
“先别急。歇一会儿吧，为什么不呢？”
John打量着这个世界，意识到自己在一片新的海岸上，沙滩漆黑而潮湿。海水拍打着他的脚背，他的手冻得僵硬。小船停在不远处，安稳地搁在沙中。头顶上方是一面高耸的岩壁，上面挂着一簇簇海草。
“Where are we now?” John croaked. He got his answer sooner than Irving could find his words; the piercing wail that had haunted them since the first beach was deafening now, like an ever-present white noise. It ebbed and flowed with the tide and seemed to come from everywhere, reverberating across the rock and sand. John noticed a dark streak of shadow cross the thin shoreline and craned his neck to see what sprouted from the rock. He saw a tower of flame scraping high into the clouds, burning with the heat of a star. Its material was foreign to him, sleek and white as bone. John could make out shapes carved into the tower but couldn’t make sense of them. They twisted up its side, but whether they were reaching up or sinking down he couldn’t tell.
“我们现在在哪儿？”John声音嘶哑。没等Irving开口，他便先得到了答案：从第一片海滩起便一直纠缠着他们的哀嚎声，此刻像是无处不在的白噪音，令人震耳欲聋。它随着潮汐起伏涨落，仿佛从四面八方涌来，在岩石与沙滩之间回荡。John注意到一道暗影掠过狭窄的海岸线，便伸长脖子去看那岩石上生出了什么。他看见一座火焰之塔直插云霄，燃烧着如恒星般炽烈的光芒。塔身的材质令他陌生，它光滑而洁白，如同骨骼。John能辨认出塔上刻着的形状，却无法理解它们的含义。那些盘根错节的纹路分不清是在向上攀升，还是在向下沉落。
“我们在悬崖边上，小子。打起精神来。用不了多久了。”Irving转身沿着海岸走去。John挣扎着站起身来，跟了上去。
“我们是怎么到这儿来的？在喝下那油之后，我……我不太确定。我看见了一些东西。”
Irving保持着步伐。“是啊。你明晰了，不是吗？我们凡人被禁止饮用天使之血，正是因为它可能揭示什么。在这里，知识神圣而危险。你最好忘掉所见的一切。”
梦中Irving的话语回响在John的脑海里：我将杀戮，Johnny。我必须将鱼叉刺入它的眼睛。他不想提起这些，不想破坏两人之间似乎已经建立起的信任。重提幻梦中的对话……他不知道老人会作何反应。于是他只是跟着Irving，沿着海滩走去。
Looping around the cliff, it became clear the two were on an island. A small one, at that, nothing like the beach he had woken up on. The rock jutted from the sand at a sharp angle, jagged at the bottom where erosion had yet to smooth the cliff. Above them the tower loomed, along with the suggestion of other structures. The sea around them stretched much like it had before, but John felt less of that familiar suffocation. He could see a bit further, breathe a bit easier. It was as if the world had been clarified, illuminated by the tower of flame. Surely it was an illusion, a haunted remainder from the sights and sounds of the oil-induced dream.
绕行悬崖一圈，两人才看清这是一座岛屿。它很小，与他醒来的那片海滩截然不同。岩石以陡峭的角度从沙地中拔起，底部崎岖，那是海水尚未冲刷平滑的痕迹。在他们头顶上方，高塔矗立，隐约可见其他建筑结构。四周的海面与先前并无不同，但John觉得那股熟悉的窒息感减轻了些。他能看得更远，呼吸也更顺畅。仿佛整个世界都被那座火焰之塔照亮，变得通透起来。当然，这不过是幻觉，是那油催生的梦境中残存的景象与声音。
Around a curve in the shore, John heard the roar of moving water. Irving held out his hand, as if to indicate caution. The source of the noise came into view by degrees: a tall, intricate statue of an arced whale, its fluke raised over its disproportionate body. From its wide open mouth came a constant surge of water, firing like a pressure hose out to sea. The force of the stream was immense and terrifying, as was the anguished look in its eyes.
绕过海岸的一处弯道，John听见了水流咆哮的声音。Irving伸出手示意他小心。那声音的源头逐渐映入眼帘：一座高大而精致的鲸鱼雕像，尾鳍高高翘起，与不成比例的躯体形成奇特的姿态。它张着大口，水流从口里不断喷涌而出，像高压水枪一般射向大海。那水流的力量巨大而可怕，正如鲸鱼眼中那痛苦的神情。
Irving缓缓靠近，伸出颤抖的手抚摸着雕像的轮廓。John凑近些，才看清了构成它的原料。绝非石头。那太洁净了，而且似乎异常坚固。是骨头？
“The fountainheads,”—Irving shouted over the roar of water—“are objects of worship for thousands. There are seven, I’ve heard it said. All along the shore, arranged in a sacred shape.” He stepped back from the fountain.
“这些源泉，”Irving大喊道，声音盖过了水声，“是成千上万人的崇拜之物。我听说共有七座，沿着海岸排列，构成一个神圣的图形。”他从泉边退了回来。
“为什么？它们有什么用处？”
“大海的诞生之地！我们所有人的诞生之地！”Irving大笑起来，癫狂地旋转着。
“那水呢？水从哪儿来？”
“From God, of course. Long ago it is said this island sprouted a holy fountain. The people back then, they fought it for a time. Couldn’t understand that it was their salvation. But water is persistent and it is eternal. Over the millennia, the fountain filled the seas and gave us this holy place.” With that he made his way along the cliff face, searching for a passage up to where the tower’s pale fire baked the black rocks.
“当然是从神而来。传说很久以前，这座岛上涌出了一道圣泉。那时的人们，还曾与之对抗过一阵。他们不明白那是他们的救赎。但水是持久的，也是永恒的，它奔流不息。千百年来，泉水注满海洋，赐予了我们这片圣地。”说罢，他沿着崖壁走去，寻找通往塔楼的通道，那苍白的火焰正炙烤着黑色的岩石。
Eventually they found a slice in the cliffside where they could climb, wedging their hands and feet into the sharp rock. By the time they reached the top, John’s hands were bleeding, and he wiped his palms on his clothes, stifling the pain. They found the tower surrounded by a ring of lesser structures, shrines and other crumbled ruins. It had once been a church, perhaps. A vision of a grand cathedral flashed before John’s eyes. Now it was almost nothing, but an air of grandeur remained. The ghost of a true religion.
两人终于在崖壁上找到一道可供攀爬的裂缝，将手脚嵌在锋利的岩石中。等他们爬到顶端时，John的双手已满是鲜血淋漓，他在衣服上擦了擦，忍住了疼痛。他们发现高塔四周环绕着一些低矮的建筑、神龛和断瓦残垣。这里曾经或许是一座教堂。John眼前闪过一座宏伟主教堂的景象。如今几乎什么都不剩了，但那份肃穆的气韵犹存。那是一个真正宗教的幽灵。
The dirt of the island was littered with white material, brick-like but oddly organic. They were, on closer inspection, what composed the island’s structures. The two passed under an archway that stood at an uncomfortable angle, leaning from the weight of the ages. Around them were statues of fish, some familiar but just as many strange and bizarre approximations of known life. John saw many whales and porpoises engaged in strange contortions, bending over each other in frightening dances. One, towering over the rest, nestled its form in the bosom of a tremendous clam, its long human arms outstretched in a macabre embrace. Its gaping mouth yawned, and within it a hundred crabs crawled and a thousand fish swam. The calcified whale bore a microcosm, one that squirmed in the thin puddles of rainwater with fitful, uncomfortable life.
岛上的泥土中散落着白色的材料，形状好似砖块，却带着奇异的有机质感。仔细看去，构成岛上建筑的正是这种东西。两人从一座门廊下穿过，那门廊因岁月的重压倾斜成了诡异的角度。四周是鱼类的雕像，有些似曾相识，但更多是一些陌生、怪诞、近乎已知生物却又不可名状的东西。John看见许多鲸鱼和海豚扭曲成奇异的姿态，以骇人的舞姿相互缠绕。其中一座最为高大，蜷缩在一只巨蚌的怀中，它长长的、似人的手臂伸展开来，摆出一个令人毛骨悚然的拥抱姿势。它大张着嘴，嘴里有上百只螃蟹爬行、上千条鱼儿游弋。这钙化的鲸鱼体内承载着一个微缩世界，它在稀薄的雨水洼里蠕动着，挤满了躁动而痛苦的生命。
They stood before the tower now, having wandered the garden of ruins in silence. The patterns revealed themselves to be figures of indeterminate make. They were indeed falling, with a slow, dignified grace. Their faces were calm. They gave no hint of hesitation or remorse. The flow of the tower’s form gave the impression of a gentle, spiraling current. Above, the flame burned, but silently. Its white color was off-putting, and gave no warmth. As if it were an illusion, a trick of the mind seeing what it expects—or wants—to see. Irving sensed it too.
两人沉默地穿过这片废墟园林，此刻已站在高塔之前。塔身上的纹路此刻分明起来，是一些难以辨别的人形。它们确实在坠落，带着一种缓慢而庄严的优雅。它们面容平静，不见丝毫犹豫或悔恨。塔身蜿蜒而上，给人一种轻柔回旋的水流之感。塔顶的火焰燃烧着，却寂静无声。那白色的火光令人不适，没有任何暖意。仿佛是一种幻觉，是内心期待或渴望看见什么，大脑便自行编造出的把戏。Irving也察觉到了这一点。
“I can’t believe how wrong I was. The tales I’ve heard. The survivors of the pilgrimages—they all tell of the tower and its guiding light. That redemption waits on high.” He gazed absently at the bleak sky and its rolling fingers of fog. “But it never was. It’s all below. God, the sea, everything. All bones sink.”
“我真不敢相信，我错得多么离谱。我听过的那些故事。那些朝圣的幸存者——他们都在讲述这座高塔和它的指引之光，说救赎在高处等候。”他茫然地望着阴霾笼罩的天空和层层翻滚的雾气。“但从来都不是。一切都在下面。神，大海，一切的一切。所有骨头终将沉没。”
VII
It was an hour before they found the stairs, nestled amongst what they could only guess was once a crypt. Shallow divots were cut into the walls and filled with rotted wood boxes within which pale bones could be seen, bedecked in strange jewels and rich finery. The stairs descended coldly into another world, more blue and dreamlike than the one above. The steps were smooth, slippery from a thousand years of use. Even though the ever-present whine seemed before to be coming from the darkness beneath the island, the second they lost sight of sunlight behind them the air grew deathly silent, save for the incessant dripping of the subterranean rivers.
他们花了将近一个小时才找到楼梯，藏在一处他们猜测曾是墓穴的地方。腐朽的木盒嵌入墙壁的凹槽内，盒中可见苍白的骨骸，佩戴着奇异的珠宝和华美的饰物。楼梯冰冷地向下延伸，通往另一个世界，它比上面的世界更蓝，恍若梦境。石阶光滑，因数千年的踩踏而湿滑难行。尽管那无处不在的哀鸣声似乎来自岛屿下方的黑暗，但就在他们头顶的阳光被遮住的瞬间，空气变得死一般寂静，只剩下地下河流永不停息的滴水声。
Irving led the way with the mermaid lighter, casting a dim orange glow as they made their descent. John ran his hand along the wall of the path, feeling the intricacies of the carvings decorating every inch of the bone-like material. Fist-sized holes marked divots where candles might have once burned, the openings stained black and painfully cold. A frigid, choking moisture permeated everything, dripping down the walls in streams that pooled among the stairs’ imperfections.
Irving拿着美人鱼打火机走在前面，暗淡的橙色光芒照亮了下方的路。John的手抚摸着通道的墙壁，感受每一寸骨制材料上精细繁杂的纹路。拳头大小的孔洞标记着蜡烛可能燃烧过的凹槽，孔洞被熏得乌黑，冰冷刺骨。一股寒冷而令人窒息的湿气渗透了一切，顺着墙壁滴下，在台阶的破损处汇聚成水洼。
The two had settled into a wordless rhythm. Somehow John knew what the other man was thinking. His dream had revealed his thoughts, even if they had never come from Irving’s lips. He could see the anticipation in his eyes, the way he gripped the lighter and seemed to temper his breathing. They were here not as pilgrims but as trespassers. This descent would lead them to the source of the wail, the place where the ever-buzzing pearl seemed to yearn for. There would be violence. For all the piousness the old man seemed to shield himself in, John sensed a hunger, a yearning for power and death and submersion into something greater, more whole. Irving’s dream-words echoed: “All things return to this green sea.”
两人陷入了一种无声的默契。不知怎的，John能猜到对方在想什么。Irving的梦揭示了他的念头，即使那些话从未从嘴里说出。他能看见他眼中的期待，看见他攥着打火机的手，看见他似乎刻意调节着自己的呼吸。他们来到这里，不是作为朝圣者，而是作为侵入者。这段下行之路将引领他们到达那哀鸣的源头，到达那颗嗡嗡作响的珍珠一直渴望的归处。那里将会有暴力。尽管老人似乎用虔诚的外壳包裹着自己，John却感受到一种饥渴——一种对力量、对死亡、对沉浸于某种更伟大、更完整之物的渴望。Irving在梦中的话语回响着：“万物终将回归这片碧绿之海。”
“恐怕我一直对你不太坦诚。”Irving的声音划破了寂静。“你问过那艘骇船。还有水手。”
“你说什么——”
“那个把你从你的时代里攫出来，带到我面前的东西。它用一扇门和一个承诺召唤了你：你将成为一名水手。你注定要跨越海洋，去发现，去理解。而这一切都发生了。”
“你之前说你从没听说过。”
He gave a pained expression. “Yes. I know. I didn't think I could trust you. Lots of bodies wash up on these beaches. They don’t always stick around long. The sea is like that. It gives, and then it takes. You’re different, Johnny. I can see that now. You’ve changed; I can see it in your eyes. I don’t know what you witnessed in your oil drunkenness. I don’t know what she showed you.”
他露出痛苦的表情。“是的，我知道。我当时觉得不能信任你。很多尸骸被冲上这片海滩，他们大多随波而逝。大海就是那样。它给予，然后索取。你不一样，Johnny。我现在能看出来了。你变了，我能从你眼睛里看出来。我不知道你在那场迷醉中目睹了什么。我不知道她向你展示了什么。”
“你梦见了什么？”
“Me?” Irving paused, breathed a moment. “I dreamed of you. I was a child again. Out at sea, the night I woke up here. I saw the Dread Ship through the fog. And you, at its helm. A right and proper sailor. I saw the door with those words, ‘The Whaler.’ I didn’t know then what it meant. I do now.”
“我？”Irving停顿了一下，喘息了片刻。“我梦见了你。我又成了一个孩子。在海上，在我醒来的那个夜晚。我透过浓雾看见了那艘骇船。而你，立在它的舵前。一个真正的水手。我看见了那扇门，上面写着‘捕鲸者’。那时我不知道那是什么意思。而现在知道了。”
“你会去杀戮，是吧？你在梦里告诉我了。”
Irving没有回答。沉默本身就是答案。
Around them, the intricate stairs gave way to untampered rock. They were now in a deep cave, moist with seawater. Paths branched off around them, some leading to still pools, some to gushing spigots that rushed deeper still. Irving walked ahead with confidence, seeming to know the way.
在他们周围，错综复杂的楼梯逐渐变成了未经雕琢的岩石。他们现在身处一个深洞中，潮湿的海水弥漫整片空间。小径向四周分岔，有的通向静止的水潭，有的通向奔涌的泉眼，水流继续向更深处冲去。Irving自信地走在前面，似乎认得路。
“我需要你保证，Johnny：你不会试图阻止我。当时机到来时，你会让事情按必然的方式发展。这里有力量在运作，有我不能拿来赌博的赌注。我不会让你干涉。”
John不知道该说什么。那些话虽然令人不安，但让他感受了到些许宽慰。
“I need to know if I can trust you.” Irving seemed pained, vulnerable in a way he had never been before. “You might hear things, see things. All of them will be true, I confess—God never lies—but you can’t forget what must happen. The end that comes for all things. I’ve been steeling myself for this moment. On the boat, drifting through the sea, I thought for a moment we would never find our way, and I would be safe to die a simple death. Then I saw the pale fire rip through the clouds, and I knew at once I, we, had been called. I’m ready now. My heart is unblemished, and I am at last free of the burden.”
“我需要知道我能否信任你。”Irving似乎很痛苦，露出了前所未有的脆弱。“你可能会听到什么，看到什么。这一切都是真的，我承认——神从不撒谎——但你不能忘记必须发生的事。那万物终结的时刻。我一直在为此准备。我们在船上，在海中漂泊时，我曾一度以为我们会永远找不到路，然后我就可以安然死去。直到我看见那苍白的火焰撕裂云层，我立刻明白，我，我们，被召唤了。我准备好了。我心无杂念，终于摆脱了那重负。”
John笑了，把手搭在他的肩上。“你带着我们走了这么远。我相信你的判断。带我们回家吧，如果你能的话。如果我们注定要死，那就死得其所。”
“你在船上找到的那个装置。”黑暗扭曲了男人的脸，打火机的橙色光芒短暂地暗了下去。“那把制造光的枪。你还带着吗？”
John摸了摸腰间，点了点头；那枚信号枪一直收着，始终保持着干燥。“只要瞄准，然后扣下扳机。”
“好，就像任何枪一样。”Irving拍了拍John的背。“好孩子。”
They followed the muggy cave tunnels, occasionally passing on both sides soot-covered sconces, long out of use. Heavy stalactites dripped moisture into thin puddles full of minuscule translucent minnows. Spider-like crabs and other things scuttled in the darkness. Soon they stood before a set of grand, sturdy doors. Markings decorated its clean exterior. John saw strange shapes in the etchings: lions bearing their teeth, planets drifting through space, blooming flowers, buzzing swarms of hornets. These were dwarfed by the depiction of a swarming pod of limbed whales, seeming to emerge from the cave walls to devour the door’s macabre tableau.
他们沿着潮湿的洞穴隧道前行，偶尔经过两旁被烟灰覆盖的壁灯，它们早已废弃。沉重的钟乳石向下滴着水，汇入浅浅的水洼，里面满是晶莹剔透的小鱼。蜘蛛般的螃蟹和其他东西在黑暗中窸窸窣窣地爬行。很快，他们来到一扇巨大而坚固的门前。门面光洁，装饰着各种图案。John在这些蚀刻图案中看到奇异的形状：龇牙咧嘴的狮子、在太空中漂移的行星、绽放的花朵、嗡嗡作响的蜂群。然而与一群长着肢体的鲸鱼相比，它们显得相形见绌，这些鲸鱼似乎正从洞壁中涌出，吞噬着门上那幅诡异的图景。
Irving pushed against a shoulder-height divot and beckoned John to help. With a grunt, the two heaved the doors open and were at once hit by a humid wind from within, pouring out from the darkness beyond. Irving raised the lighter and cast forth the small flame. John knew the space was vast, but couldn’t be sure of its details. Perhaps there were objects in the darkness, arched statues with looming, bony arms pressed against the ceiling of the chamber, jeering with wide baleen grins. Or perhaps not, and it was simply an empty chamber.
Irving推了推一个齐肩高的凹槽，示意John帮忙。两人哼了一声，合力推开了门，一股潮湿的风立刻从门内扑面而来，仿佛是从黑暗中涌出。Irving举起打火机，点亮了微弱的火焰。John知道这里的空间很大，但无法确定其中的细节。也许黑暗中藏着什么东西，比如拱形的雕像，它们骨瘦如柴的长臂抵在洞穴的天花板上，咧着宽大的鲸嘴嘲笑着。也许什么都没有，只是一个空荡荡的房间。
他们慢慢向前走，Irving突然拽了一下John的衣服。他的声音因恐惧或兴奋而颤抖，但说出的话却惊人的清晰。“别再往前走了。我们到了。”
Dimly though the darkness of the cave John could see that the ground shortly ahead seemed to simply fall away into nothingness. He looked left and right and determined that the entire chamber might be split in two by a vast chasm, peeling away to a void where light simply could not penetrate.
借着洞穴中昏暗的光线，John可以看到前方不远处的地面似乎陡然消失了，化作一片虚无。他左右看了看，断定整个洞穴可能被一道巨大的裂缝一分为二，裂缝延展通向光线无法穿透的虚空。
“快！”Irving的声音既像是喊叫又像是低语。“跪下。我们必须表示敬畏，才有资格被接见。”
两人长久而沉默地匍匐在那里，额头贴着冰冷的地面。什么也没发生，时间随着远处溪流的滴答声一秒接一秒流逝。
Irving的呼吸很快变得急促起来。“我们不配吗？”他的声音几近耳语。“我还有什么可以奉献？”
It was then that John felt a vibration against his skin, or beneath it. Or perhaps he had imagined it all, for when he reached into the folds of his clothes he felt nothing but the cold smoothness of the rose pearl. On instinct, and unsure why, he gripped the small orb tightly and removed it from his pocket, sitting up and lifting it as if presenting it to the void. Irving, seeing this unfold from the corner of his eyes, began to chuckle, nodding vigorously.
就在这时，John感到一阵紧贴他皮肤的颤动，亦或自皮肤之下。又或者这一切都是他的想象，因为当他伸手探进衣服的褶皱里时，只摸到那冰凉光滑的玫瑰珍珠。出于本能，也不确定为什么，他紧紧握住那颗小球，将它从口袋里取出，坐起身来，高高举起，仿佛在向虚空献上它。Irving用余光看到这一幕，开始咯咯地笑起来，用力地点着头。
“Yes, yes!” he said. “Now you understand. Now you see the connections, the rhythm of fate, where I had gone blind.” From the darkness John felt a great stirring, as if a vastness was coming to life, awakening, or being drawn forth. “I had almost lost myself to despair, in the final moments. But you, boy, you are a boy no longer. A right and proper sailor you are.” Irving sat up, taller than John remembered. He turned to face him, and even in the darkness he could see the glint of fire in his eyes, the madness creeping home. “Grab the mast of this world, wrestle its helm, and together we will go far indeed. You and I, Whaler and Ship. Together to claim what’s ours. Now—” he suddenly became hushed, gazing into the yawning chasm. “Observe, and marvel at the majesty of God.”
“对，对！”他说。“你现在明白了。你现在看到了那些联系，命运的节奏，而我已经盲目了。”John感到黑暗中传来一阵强烈的震颤，仿佛有一个庞然大物正在复苏、清醒，或是被牵引而出。“在最后的时刻，我差点陷入绝望。但是你，小子，你已经不再是个孩子了。你是一个真正的水手。”Irving坐起身来，比John记忆中还要高大。他转向他，即使在黑暗中，John也能看见他眼中火焰的闪光，那疯狂正在燃烧。“抓住这个世界的桅杆，掌控它的舵，我们一起就能走得更远。你和我，捕鲸者与船。一起去夺回属于我们的东西。现在——”他突然噤声，凝视着那不见底的深渊。“好好看着，惊叹神的威严。”
John felt his muscles grow weak, and he returned the pearl quietly to his pocket. He shut his eyes instinctively, wincing from the appearance of a danger unseen but rather felt. Wet air rushed around him, and suddenly the emptiness was filled, silently and in a single instant, as if it had always been.
John感到自己的肌肉变得无力，他悄悄地将珍珠放回口袋。他本能地闭上眼睛，因一种看不到却可感知到的危险而瑟缩着。潮湿的空气在他周围涌动，突然，那片虚空被一瞬间填满了，悄无声息，仿佛它一直都在那里。
“Look… by God, open your eyes, boy.” The lighter clattered to the floor, the flame little more than a dim spark, and when he at last opened his eyes he saw in its diffused beam that the void of the chasm was not a void at all, but rather a flat expanse of wrinkled skin, bubbling with scabs and scars and withered barnacles, opening and shutting like pustular sores. He swiveled his head, trying to get his bearings of the mass, but found no comfortable orientation; whatever creature this was seemed to span infinitely across the chasm, indeed, perhaps the world entire.
“看……看在神的份上，睁开眼睛，孩子。”打火机咔嗒一声掉在地上，火焰只剩下一点暗淡的火花。当他终于睁开眼睛时，借着那弥散的微光，他看到那深渊的虚空根本不是什么虚空，而是一片平坦的、布满褶皱的皮肤，上面布满了结痂的伤疤和枯萎的藤壶，像脓疮一样开合着。他转动着头，试图搞清楚这庞然大物的轮廓，却找不到任何熟悉的参照物；无论这是什么生物，它似乎无止境地横跨整道深渊，也许甚至，它横亘整个世界。
Irving’s voice came out as a choked whisper. “Righteousness almighty, my God the living, the supreme, bless your seaborne form, your endless grace. Look boy, look—”
Irving的声音变成哽咽的低语。“全能的上苍，我永生的神、至上的神，保佑你这因海而生的形体，与你无尽的恩典。看哪，孩子，看哪——”
—and John saw in the darkness far above his head the twinkling of stars, falling gently to his insignificant body. ——John在他头顶上方的黑暗中看见了闪烁的星辰，正缓缓地落向他渺小的身躯。Only, as they came into the light he realized they were not stars but the watery reflections of a massive cornea, and inside was an iris one moment grey, the next sapphire. 只是，当它们进入光亮时，他才意识到那不是星辰，而是巨大角膜上波光粼粼的反光，角膜内是虹膜，时而呈灰色，时而如蓝宝石般明澈。It regarded him with an alien intelligence that penetrated John’s body, then wormed into his mind. 它以一种异样的智慧凝视着他，那目光穿透了John的身体，然后钻入他的脑海。In that iris he saw a cloud-shrouded planet, rimmed by a halo of blue light like that of a stellar corona, equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying.在那虹膜中，他看见一颗被云层笼罩的行星，边缘环绕着一圈蓝色的光晕，如同恒星的日冕，既迷人又令人可怖。In his lungs he felt the gurgle of water, and was violently overcome with the urge to spew his life upon the floor.他感受到肺里有水流涌动，一股剧烈的冲动猛地攫住了他，要将他的生命置弃在地上。He felt his death approaching imminent from within, a sudden impulse to die as if his mind and body sought to resist the gaze from above at all costs.他感到死亡正从体内逼近，产生了一种突如其来的求死冲动，仿佛他的身心都在不惜一切代价地抵抗来自上方的凝视。But as he continued to stare, resisting the feeling of saltwater in his blood, his brain, gushing from his bones and out his nose, he felt the tension within him relax. 但当他继续凝视着，抵抗着血液、大脑中咸涩海水的涌动，那水正从他的骨头里涌出，从他的鼻子里流出，他感到体内的紧张感松弛了下来。A question had quietly become resolved. All at once the water became a comfortable pressure, familiar and homely.一个疑问悄然得到了解决。突然间，海水变成了一种舒适的压力，熟悉而亲切。 He recognized and welcomed its embrace, and as he did he watched the rings of flesh around God’s eye contract and narrow, its stare boring deeper. 他认出了它，并欣然接纳。就在这时，他看到神之眼周围的血肉之环收缩、变窄，那凝视变得更加深邃了。
一个声音从某个遥远的地方传来。不，并不遥远。很近。就在眼前。John将目光从神身上移开，再次用凡人的眼睛去看，用凡人的耳朵去听。Irving正在叫他。
“——现在，小子，是时候了！把那把枪给我。现在我们掌握了篡夺的力量！我们将回应神的要求，正如它要求我们的那般！”
But his words were distant, and he saw in the man only his sour title, Whaler (italics), so bereft of dignity, and so he made no effort to pull the flare gun from his waist. Irving’s face contorted into an exuberant madness, and he sprang at John, tackling him to the cave floor.
但他的话是飘渺的，他在男人身上只看到了那个劣迹斑斑的头衔——捕鲸者，毫无尊严可言，于是他没有费力去腰间取信号枪。Irving的脸扭曲成一种狂喜的疯狂，他向John扑去，将他扑倒在洞穴的地面上。
“Child! Ignorant fool! I should have let you starve on that shore! I should have let the sea take you, like I did the others. You are nothing but a lost calf, struck by its promise of power. Struck blind! How do you not see? Kill it, and its essence will be returned to the sea, in accordance with its own law!” He struck John hard across the face. The blow was strong and sent blood trickling from his nose, but when it crept into his mouth John tasted only cold salt. Irving struck again, and all strength was sapped from John’s body. There seemed no point in resisting any longer. All will be returned to the sea, John understood.
“孩子！无知的蠢货！我真该让你在那片海滩上饿死！我就该让大海把你卷走，就像对其他人那样。你什么都不是，只是一头迷失的幼崽，被力量的承诺蒙蔽了双眼。你瞎吗！你怎么就看不见？杀死它，它的本质就会回归大海，这是它自己的法则！”他狠狠地打了John一巴掌。那一击很重，鲜血从他的鼻子里汩汩涌出，但当血涌入他的嘴里时，John只尝到了冰冷的咸味。Irving又打了一巴掌，John全身的力气都被抽走了。反抗似乎已经毫无意义。万物都将回归大海，John明晓。
Irving站起身来，手里握着那把亮橙色的塑料枪。他掂了掂它的重量，然后挺直身子，将枪口指向头顶上方那只若隐若现的虹膜。
“My God, I thank thee for this world, this beautiful sea, and all life within.” His eyes burned brightly now, no longer a dull yellow candle but a blazing wildfire. John watched a smile creep up his lips, and found within him the strength to stand.
“Return to the sea, my Lord!” Irving shouted. “Find grace within its unplumbed depths! Let the world feast on your holy flesh, drink from your oily blood! Let your angels multiply in your absence, so that we may one day ascend to replace you, to grow and struggle and one day die by the hands of our children—”
Irving felt cold hands press against his spine, soaking through his clothes. He stopped his raving, turning with disbelief to see what had risen, dripping, from the floor. He let out a choked whimper as the hands reached out again, but in a surge of defiance he pulled the trigger and fired the flare gun squarely at John’s forehead. The cave was lit by a plume of red flame. John saw the totality of God illuminated in the blazing light, and all around him the mummified bodies of half-formed things, at once human and cetacean, curled up or crawling aimlessly. Then the flaming shell collided with its target and extinguished itself in a hiss of steam, vanishing uselessly into the sudden darkness.
Irving resisted little when John surged toward him, raising his arms in limp defence against the coming tide. He was lifted, and then hurled with impossible fury into the chasm at his back. As John watched the man tumble, his screams turning by degrees into inane laughter, he saw God’s eye ascend rapidly, the movement of its holy flesh becoming like the speedy orbit of a planet, until it had shifted its position entirely. The wall of barnacled flesh became a void once again, but only for an instant. As Irving fell, the darkness seemed to open and accept him, and out of the black emerged a billion strips of broom-like baleen, above and below and spiraling on all sides. White lightning arced from dense clouds within and illuminated the cyclopean expanse beyond; John gazed upon a churning sea, draining down, down, and sucking inward untold legions of beasts born of land and sea and all places. Across a bulbous and terrible tongue John watched Irving plummet, flailing, on his face some nameless emotion of terror and ecstasy until at last the baleen walls collapsed and the world was once again plunged into darkness.
VIII
John remained where he woke, naked, amongst the tall grass. A pleasant breeze drifted by, rustling the weeds and his hair. Not far was the rose pearl, nestled amongst sand and pebbles, forgotten. The night was growing old, but he felt no urgency. There was, for the first time, nothing to be done.
Though he could not see it, he knew he was close to the sea, and he listened deeply to the gentle movement of the waves against sand. He fell upon his back, exhausted, and gazed awhile at the clear sky, trying to recall the names and arrangements of constellations he had learned in his youth. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he will set forth and begin the long work.
Presently he closed his eyes. In the final moments before sleep took him, he listened sadly to the far-off mutter of fishing boats coming to harbor from a long and hard journey, and he imagined somewhere a dread ship making its lonely rounds across the seas.
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