VI A Buried Plane

类别:文学名著 作者:迈克尔·翁达杰 本章:VI A Buried Plane

    , eac ter sip off an ampoule and turns to  of morp races in ime and geograpo a two-dimensional s of paper.

    t sky, il t dusk, arcing to colour of t. A unison of performance like a hrown seed.

    In t city in  you could buy anyt came at one pitcle, to terrible leas slipped over t finger of a o you in a cro.

    In t section of Cairo  courtyard of religious students, and beyond it the Khan el Khalili bazaar.

    Above treets s on ted tin roofs en feet to treet and stalls. Above all to minarets, feluccas, cats, tremendous noise. So me of  sleep srellises. Sake -my  at t onto tation at her neck.

    Marc. Madox is irritable because of teen  above sea level and able .  man after all,  on Magna, Somerset, altered all customs and s so y to sea level as well as regular dryness.

    “Madox,   t t.  is it, does it   tc the noon glare.

    “Pull yourself togetters.

    Let me tell you a story,” Caravaggio says to   . In t desert explorers. er  t.  dialects. Does t of Cairo. One o searc oasis. t aking t into Cairo.  I  to tell you is, I tient is not Englis about all ters’s all a perfect background. to name t  nigrange, because I gave ra dose of morp out about eigisriple agent.  aed.” “I kno Zerzura. alked about it. alks about gardens.” “But it is mostly t noairs.” t on t eac’s possible.” “I t herself.

    “I kno  an Englis of tripoli Axis. Rommel’s Rebecca spy—” “ do you mean, ‘Rebecca spy’?” “In  t a spy called Eppler into Cairo before ttle of El Alamein. o send messages back to Rommel on troop movements. Listen, tiselligence. Even I read it.” “You read a book?” “t into Cairo on Rommel’s personal orders—from tripoli all to Cairo— Ladislaus de Almasy. tretc t, it was assumed, no one could cross.

    “Bet explorers. But he Germans.

    Rommel asked o take Eppler across t into Cairo because it would oo obvious by plane or parace.

    o ta.” “You kno about tracking t men into t. to keep digging trucks out of to and its granite plateau so t er, take ser in t ings t teau  use truck out into t again. tisrol dumps to fill up tanks. In tco Britisises on tted from tely still.

    Baking to deathe sand.

    “It took to reac  urned and  back into t alone. e t again, back toripoli. But t  time isually and used to feed false information to Rommel about El Alamein.” “I still don’t believe it, David.” “tcly.” “Maybe  t at first.  lover as  t Almasy  someone  to sco as t on tc doesn’t matter o talk alking it out. Botand? to see oo obsessed. It doesn’t matter ail. Morped it at Brompton al in London for tients. Don’t   kill  absorbs fast into t it toget .

    Give . t raigcting on t stages of t ubes of morpoote tubes for dolls, s terly quaint. Caravaggio carried t all day long, slipping to umbled on ing from its excess, croucried speaking ared back. al supply box, torn it open  strengt open te, Caravaggio broke tip off eet to t it was. Kip pushing him away, glaring in anger.

    “Leave ient.” “I  damage ake aON COCKtAIL.

    : P.M.)  Caravaggio slips t of the man’s hands.

    “— someone. In late August. Nineteen forty-t  by t armies.” “t?” “Give me tispiece of Kirn ted line for took. It s a portion of India—a darkly cross-can, and Kasains.

    races ill it enters t °o’ latitude. inues sliding , off to ; ouches his rib.

    “ nortropic of Cancer. On tian-Libyan border.”   happened in ?

    I o Cairo and urning from tting trol and er, driving to. It  I ruck exploded and I capsized, rolling automatically into t ing a spark to touc one is alened of fire.

    truck exploded, probably sabotaged. tinued to drift like cities, carrying spice, rooms, government advisors  any given moment among there were Englishmen as well as Germans.

    Leaving truck, I started o, where was a buried plane.

    ait.  do you mean, a buried plane?

    Madox o tials—tra” , crucial for desert fligimes in t augo fly, ture t he wind.

    on’s plane—Rupert—fleo our midst, t arpaulin, pegged do alcoves of U. Sand collected over it gradually for t few years.

    None of us t  again. It im of t. it gully and see no contour of it. By noon’s plane, ten years younger, o our story.

    So you o?

    Yes. Four nig turned back into t. Everywhere was war.

    Suddenly teams.” tin Pas various times saved eac up into camps.

    I o. I got t noon and climbed up into teau. Above the well named Ain Dua.

    “Caravaggio thinks he knows who you are,” hana said.

    thing.

    “ Engliselligence out of Cairo and Italy for a  of tors, like some of t Caravaggio  like t.

    oo curious and generous to be a successful tole never came  Engliscillness as s appeared t  listening carefully to  ton looked and t alking.

    o ter. ed from ts of  of t, tlefield, and  naked into the cave.

    ings tle. takable posture of s t lake. o to t ill there.

    So a corner, ige material. o return for her.

    o die in a cave, s privacy, t in them.

    old  in Asian gardens you could look at rock and imagine er, you could gaze at a still pool and believe it  sness, rellis and  emporary. So love its sternness because of ing to understand  in its solitude. Seaming ness, climbing back in from  rainy nigting on ill , in order to  all. Just as sraditions and courteous ceremony and old memorized poems. Sed to die  a name. For o ors t actile, y in himself.

    Sioned the mediaeval dead lie.

    I approacing to undress ill ing to love her.

    is terrible in  ive for it. You can make love to a  on my asted and sranslate properly into anotation of intimacy the living.

    I lifted o my arms from turbed all t.

    I carried  into ttle from t in tones.

    My linked o rest on. As soon as I reacled . I o ion of t, fingers like starfish.

    e moved like to gully, ank of petrol I ruck. Because tent  it.

    “ hree years earlier?” “She had been injured. In

    even lovers at time. I suppose information of trickled doo oo o take o save o try and reacer all tion and anger, together had believed in.

    In tanical garden s tepost in determination and fury. too proud to be a lover, a secret. tments in urned back to  miss you yet.

    You will.

    During tion ter and self-sufficient.  stand o er in t tempted everyone. to trust nothing.

    ed serpreted ure to ot of Roundell’s jacket once in a lobby and s, laug tered somet government aide for to see if t trust  endearments to

    stand even entative smiles at  drink it. If at a dinner sed to a boing in it  look at it. Just anotimates t excluded o t muc love and ure.

    pale brote papers and glued to sections of tories t recorded  erest to e do o tcener, t days before t time to to clear out to pick il to love eacher.

    Clifton fle to collect ed day, buzzing t oasis so loled to ts—arpaulin. ted doraigoy yards ahere was no fire.

    A  t of t.

    Only s dead.  out of this grip of her husband.

    e me? salking t. Stered ribs. You errible to me. t’s ill e t about you—disappearing into deserts or bars.

    You left me in Groppi Park.

    Because you didn’t  me as anything else.

    Because you said your  mad.

    Not for a long time. I  mad before op defending yourself. Kiss me and call me by my name.

    t in perfumes, in s, frantic to get under t tongue or a tooter t righer.

    Noalcum on er on high.

    You t, but you’re not. You just move, or replace   sometreat into somet you because I kneill sometimes, so imes, as if test betrayal of yourself o reveal one more incer. In talked. e itudes ay of Kufra.

    ablet into t disappears into th.

    I crossed to robes against t and nigus left beer, in , I o .

    In t tools of survival are underground—troglodyte caves, er sleeping , weapons, a plane.

    At longitude , latitude , I dug dooarpaulin, and Madox’s old plane gradually emerged. It ern over to  for a —starlig, I don’t remember. Everyhere was a war.

    t of tarp so  dig it out but o cut it away.

    In ter t. I started tor and it rolled into life. e moved and too late, into the sky.

    tops. traight ahead in his morphine focus.

    t  above turns as if losing a stitc, noise terrible after o . Acacia and bone. he sky?

    top of a palm and s up, and t, o it.

    t, and t co t beside s  t glass and it  s. Begins punc, finally breaking it, and t were so arms uncoiling around ongue.

    Caravaggio reflected in t. tted plane, tings on tree been? s  of t t tired of living   lie back in rust o stand guard all day all niged not from t but from solitude. Madox gone. translated into leaves and to the sky like a jaw above him.

    o t parace and pivots upside do knoil he realizes he is on fire.

    ient’s room and stands in trying to catc they are saying.

    ?

    onderful! No’s my turn.

    Ahh! Splendid, splendid.

    test of inventions.

    A remarkable find, young man.

    ers sient passing a can of condensed milk back and fort tin aed t  . t imes, managing finally to pull tin ahe dark face.

    “e , for he sapper asks.

    hem.

    Kip peers into t anothe room.

    the bed.

    “Kip and I are boternational bastards—born in one place and co live elseo get back to or get a yet. t’s ogetcabs t, o the bedroom.

    “You must  suck it out t . I learned everyt ever o me t ant .”  hana.

    “One feeds me morp!” urns back to Kip.

    “how long have you been a sapper?” “Five years.

    Mostly in  London.

    taly.

    its.” “eacric.” “t kind of teac must  Miss Morden?” “Yes.” At no point does eittempt to make able in tion. But ss to kno eacher, and how he would describe him.

    “ . Miss Morden, ary, s. Miss Morden ake notes, ed as s ruments.  man. trinity. them, in

    At Erit t t up so t is against a painted buso interpret.

    Some men  knot of life in oo discover tona stes to topped inued ies o emotionally disturbed tons.

    Sc tral look on .


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