Vitalist: переводы

→Without speaking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box.

→“I want to see the others!” Sophia removed the pebbles and then gently turned the clay map face down. She picked up the metal map. “I think I need some matches. Am I right?” She looked at Shadrack inquiringly.

→“The clay maps are usually less work-intensive,” Shadrack said. “In this case, the terrain didn’t change much over the course of the month, so I was able to spend more time working through the details of the landscape.”

→She carefully edged her finger upward on the map; it was like moving through a cascade of memories. She remembered pine forests and the thick needled carpet that lay underfoot; she remembered a long avenue lined with bare maples; she remembered the edge of a stream that was entirely frozen, dry leaves clumped in bundles at its edges. “It’s beautiful,” Sophia said quietly. “So many places—and so detailed.”

→“Go ahead—try it.”

→Sophia held her breath with anticipation and touched the map. She was flooded with a memory of rolling hills. In the distance she saw a small pond and farther on an orchard of bare trees. She lifted her finger, pulling herself away from the memories. “What happens if I move?”

→“Clay maps are topographical,” Shadrack said. “They show the earth: hills, fields, forests, rivers, and so on. I think for this one it might be a little disorienting to look at the city center. Try an outlying region, out here.” Shadrack indicated the western part of Boston, where there was a green expanse of land and almost no lines.

→At the far left of the tablet was a legend like the one on the cloth map. Sophia placed pebbles on the day-clock’s 15 and the hour-clock’s 10: midday on February the fifteenth. Then she examined the map. The spidery lines on the clay wove their way tightly around the city center and then trailed off as they worked their way outward.

→“Well done. Earth responds to water. So try a date and time.”

→“I guessed it!”

→He edged it along the table and she dipped her finger into the cool liquid. Then she held it over the clay tablet and let a single drop fall. Immediately the surface of the clay began to change, and an intricately painted map appeared on the surface.

→“Hand me your water.”

→Shadrack raised his eyebrows. “What are you thinking?”

→Sophia sat silently for a minute, thinking hard. Suddenly something occurred to her. “I know!”

→“Your breath caused the linen to change,” Shadrack said. “It was the key to the map—it created a movement, an impetus, a catalyst that unlocked it. What do you think would do that to clay—to a piece of earth?”

→She picked it up dubiously. She tried blowing on it, but nothing happened. “I don’t know,” she said, frowning.

→“Let’s look at them then, shall we?” Shadrack collected the pebbles, lifted the linen cloth, and gently turned it over. When he turned it right side up, it was once again blank, save for the inscriptions in the corner. “What about the clay tablet?”

→“Not yet.”

→Shadrack spoke with just the slightest hint of pride. “It’s not a bad map, if I say so myself. Took quite a while to pin down the last few days of the month. Very few people remembered the weather.” He considered the other maps on the table. “So what about these? Any luck?”

→“I’m going to read another time.” Sophia moved the pebbles to the 12 on the day-clock and the 20 on the hour-clock. Then she gingerly put her fingertip on Boston Common and immediately recalled something that she had never lived through: standing in Boston Common in the middle of the night while the snowflakes swirled down around her. The sky was silver with clouds, and the air around her tasted cold. The snow moved across the common in gentle currents, as if shaped by an invisible breath. “It’s just wonderful,” Sophia said drawing her finger away. “I can’t believe it.”