Keep Your Head Up 抬起头
by Mike Resnick 迈克·雷斯尼克
Translated by Ninesnow
2014-07-22
彗星科幻
(译文见后)
It was July of the year 1917, and for the hundredth time I found myself wishing that I’d been assigned to the Western Front rather than stuck here in the middle of Africa, thousands of miles away from the action. My little island was engaged in The War to End All Wars against the Germans. Oh, sure, other countries were involved too, but they didn’t count. It was the English against the Germans, and all the rest was a sideshow.
So here I was, trudging down a narrow path covered with piles of elephant shit, dive-bombed not by the notorious Red Baron but by a bunch of goddamned tsetse flies, approaching not Berlin or even Munich, but a Kikuyu village that had no name and couldn’t be found on any map of the territory. (It had that in common with a couple of hundred other Kikuyu villages I’d been to.)
Maybe if I hadn’t learned to speak Swahili on some hunting trips before the war I’d have been stationed where I could actually do some good. Maybe I could have been an honest-to-goodness soldier instead of just a useless errand boy. But instead fighting Germans I was foot-slogging through the bush, watching out for lions and leopards, ready to climb a tree if I ran into an enraged elephant, hoping none of the snakes I passed in the high grass were poisonous.
Finally I came to Ngoni’s village, just as the sun was starting to set. A couple of warriors armed with crude spears escorted me to his hut, then made me stand there for a couple of minutes until he emerged to greet me.
“Good day, Lieutenant,” he said, mispronouncing the word terribly. “What news do you bring today?”
“The Germans are on the move,” I said. “My information is that they crossed the border from Tanganyika to Kenya two days ago.”
“Ah,” he said. I wish I knew what “Ah” meant, because it seemed to be his favorite word.
“They should reach this area within another day,” I said.
“Ah,” he said.
It was all I could do not to slap him and tell him to pay attention. “So keep your head up.”
He stared at me with a puzzled expression. “Keep my head up?” he said. He put a hand under his chin. “It is not down.”
Idiot! I thought. “I mean, keep alert. Watch out for anything unusual, unless you want the Germans to wipe out your village.”
“I have never even seen a German,” he said. “Their battle is with the British, not the Kikuyu. Why should we be worried?”
“Because you are in British territory,” I explained patiently.
He smiled. “Ah,” he said. “You mean that the British are in Kikuyu territory.”
“Just be alert,” I said, realizing that it would be fruitless to argue international law with an illiterate savage.
“I appreciate your concern,” said Ngoni, “but you need have no worry about us.”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “The Germans are well-armed.”
“They have more than two apiece?” he asked, frowning.
I shook my head. “I mean, they come with powerful weapons.”
“Ah,” he said. “You mean they have the same weapons that the British use to slay our animals, the same ones they used to take what you now call the White Highlands away from the Kikuyu people.”
I didn’t want to get into a long argument with him about how we were making the land more productive, so I simply started describing what a tank is and how it worked and the damage it could do.
“And you say that the Germans, with all these strange weapons, may be here tomorrow?” asked Ngoni.
“Maye even today,” I answered.
“Ah,” he said.
“That’s it?” I demanded. “I tell you about the devastation that’s headed toward your village, about the weapons of destruction they have, and all you can say is ‘Ah’?”
“Have you a better word?” he asked.
“Yes, I have one: leave!” I yelled.
“We cannot do that,” he answered.
“Why the hell not?”
“The Germans are very much like you, are they not?”
“No,” I answered. “They’re mean, and warlike, and dishonest, and—”
He shook his head. “An elephant cannot mate with a hippo. A lion cannot mate with a buffalo.” He stared at me. “Can the British mate with the Germans?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Ah,” he said with a smile. “There you have it.”
“So you’re just going to stay here and wait for the Germans to show up?”
“They will not harm us,” he said confidently. “Mtepwa will protect us.”
“Mtepwa?” I repeated. “Is that your god?”
He shook his head. “Our god is Ngai. Mtepwa is our mundumugu.”
“What’s a mundumugu?” I asked.
He tried to explain, and after several attempts I finally understood that a mundumugu is a Kikuyu witch doctor.
“I must speak to Mtepwa,” I said at last. “I must find someone in this backward village who understands the danger that is approaching.”
“Ah,” he said, and then called out for Mtepwa. A moment later an old, wrinkled, undernourished man with a few strands of white hair on his mostly bald head hobbled over.
“Mtepwa, this is Lieutenant Walden-Smythe,” said Ngoni, mispronouncing my name even worse than usual. “He is here to warn us that we must protect our village.”
“From the British?” asked Mtepwa.
“From the Germans!” I growled.
“Forgive me,” said the old witch doctor. “The only difference between them is the names, so it is easy to confuse the two.”
Why are we wasting our time on ignorant savages like you? I wondered. Aloud I said, “I am here to prepare you, to tell you what to expect.”
“I think we already know,” said Mtepwa. “If the Germans win, they will take our land, and tax us, and force us to serve them.” I was about to say that they would be much more forceful and unfeeling about it than the British when he added, “It is a terrible fate, and I will not let it befall this village.”
“Good,” I said. “Just keep your head up and your eyes open.”
“Keep my head up?” he repeated, frowning as though he couldn’t understand what I was saying. For the thousandth time I wished I was in the trenches in France, rather than dealing with ignorant savages in the middle of a totally worthless continent.
“I mean be alert,” I said, trying to keep the contempt out of my voice. “Or in your case, don’t spend all your time looking for tasty grubworms to eat. Watch for the Germans. Listen for their approach. Be prepared to retreat if they start firing or driving their tanks through the village.”
“Watch,” he repeated, nodding his head. “Listen. Be prepared.”
Even though we were speaking in Swahili, I wondered if he even knew what the words meant. I knew about mundumugus. Right before the rainy season they’d pray for rain, and when it came everyone was sure they had brought it. They’d hear lions bring down an antelope two miles away in the middle of the night, and explain that they had just ordered the lions to kill a Maasai or a Lumbwa, one of their tribal enemies. And I was absolutely certain that when the Germans arrived, marched through the village, stole all the stored food, and raped a couple of the prettier girls, Mtepwa would explain that this was Ngai’s way of punishing the village for not believing even more devoutly in their mundumugu’s powers.
“Okay,” I said, tiring of what was passing for a conversation. “You know what to do?”
He nodded. “Keep my head up.”
“Right,” I said.
“If the Germans are close, it is not safe for you to be wandering around in the dark,” added Mtepwa. “You should spend the night in an empty hut.”
“I think I’ll accept your offer,” I said. “Not that I’m afraid of those German scum.”
And in truth it wasn’t that I was afraid of the Germans. It was that I’d already gotten lost three times during the daylight, and I would certainly get lost if I began walking alone at night, especially with all the predators hunting for their dinners.
So I let him lead me to an empty hit. A lovely girl brought me a basket of fruit, and even a gourd of pombe, the native beer, and then I was alone. I ate some of the fruit, drank all of the pombe, and lay down to sleep.
I was awakened two hours later by the sound of mechanized vehicles coming through the underbrush, and German voices yelling through bullhorns.
Damn! I thought. I got here a day too late. Now we’re all going to die!
I cautiously got to my feet and walked out of the hut. For a moment I was blinded by the headlights of the tanks. Then, as my eyes became used to the light, I looked around. The entire population of the village stood there, half-asleep, curious about the tanks and the Germans, and too damned ignorant to be afraid.
“Shit!” I muttered softly. “I told you to keep your head up. How could you let machines that are this loud and this bright sneak up on the village?”
And no sooner had the words left my mouth than one of the tanks exploded in a ball of flame, its crew screaming in agony. A moment later a second tank did the same thing, but this time I saw that it had been struck by…well, by something perhaps twenty meters behind me.
I turned and saw a headless male body, clad only in a loincloth. At first I thought the Germans had shot its head off and that the body simply hadn’t collapsed yet, and then I looked up. Yes, up. And there, maybe ten meters above the ground, was the body’s head.
I stared at it and realized that it was Mtepwa. He winked at me, then looked back at the remaining German tank and soldiers, and a flash of light leaped out of his eyes and engulfed them in a white-hot flame. They were dead before they could scream, and the tank was a molten puddle.
Mtepwa’s head floated back down to his body. When they were joined, he walked over to me.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said.
“For what?” I asked, still shocked and mystified by what had transpired.
“For telling me how to defeat them,” he said, and then smiled again. “‘Keep your head up,’” he repeated.
“That was just…remarkable!” I said enthusiastically.
“It is a mundumugu’s job to protect his people.”
“And now you have accomplished it.”
“No,” he said, and his head suddenly left his body and once again floated well above it. “Now I have begun it.”
And I had a feeling that he was looking directly at me as the words left his mouth.
现在是1917年的七月,我已经无数次希望自己被分配到西部战线,而不是像现在这样被困在非洲中部,和战斗隔着十万八千里。我的祖国——虽说是个不大的岛国——正在和德国人进行着一场“以战止战”的战争。哦,当然,也有别的国家搅了进来,但是他们都算不上数。这是英国人与德国人之间的战争,其他的不过是中央舞台之外的助兴演出。
于是我就出现在这里了,在堆满了大象糞便的羊肠小道上艰难跋涉,承受一次又一次的俯冲轰炸——只不过攻击我的是一群又一群该死的采采蝇,而不是臭名昭著的“红男爵”。我正要去往的地点不是柏林,甚至不是慕尼黑,而是在这片区域的地图上都无法标记出来的一个籍籍无名的基库尤村庄。(我已经去过的几百个基库尤村子都是这么的内敛低调。)
说起来,要不是我在战前的狩猎旅行中学会了斯瓦希里语,也许我就会被派遣到能够发挥我的实力的地方。也许我会成为一名货真价实的战士,而不是一个毫无用处的信使。现实是,我没和德国人干起来,而是在丛林中步履维艰,警惕着会不会有狮子、豹子窜出来,准备着在碰见发狂的大象时爬到树上,指望着我在高高的草丛中跨过的每一条蛇都没有毒。
我终于赶在太阳落山之前抵达了恩戈尼的村子。几个拿着粗糙长矛的武士把我带到他的棚屋前,让我等着。我在门口站了几分钟后,他才出来迎接我。
“你好啊,仲尉。今天又带来什么消息了?”听他讲“中尉”这个词简直是一场灾难。
“德国人开始行动了,”我说。“我得到的消息说他们两天前从坦噶尼喀进入了肯尼亚境内。”
“啊。”他说。我真希望我能明白“啊”是什么意思,他似乎非常喜欢说“啊”。
“他们这两天就会到达这个地区。”我说。
“啊。”他说。
我努力不让自己扇他一个大嘴巴,好让他意识到问题的严重性。“总之,把你们的头都抬起来。”
他迷惑不解的看着我。“抬头?”他伸手托住下巴对我说:“我没低着头啊。”
蠢货!我在心里暗想。“我的意思是,你们要提高警惕。要是不想让德国人把你的村子夷为平地,就要注意所有反常的事情。”
“我还从来没见到过德国人呢。”他说。“和他们打仗的是英国人,又不是我们基库尤人。我们为什么要担心德国人?”
“因为你们在英国的领土内。”我耐心地向他解释。
他笑了。“啊,你是说英国在基库尤的领土内。”
“你们只要保持警惕就好。”我已经意识到和大字不识的野人讲国际法简直就是对牛弹琴。
恩戈尼对我说:“很感谢你对我们的担心,但我们是不会有事的。”
“你根本就不明白。”我说。“德国人手段高明。”
“他们还不只两只手?”他皱着眉问。
我直摇头。“我是说他们有很强大的武器。”
“啊。”他说。“你的意思是他们和英国人用的是同样的武器?英国人用那些武器屠杀我们的动物,还抢走了基库尤人的土地。就是你们现在叫做‘白人高地’的那块地”。
我不想浪费口舌和他没完没了的争论我们是如何更加有效的利用那个地区,提高土地产能的。所以我开始向他描述坦克看上去是什么样子,它是怎么进行攻击的,还有它的破坏力有多大。
“你是说德国人和这些奇怪的武器明天就会到这儿来?”恩戈尼问。
“很可能今天就到。”我回答。
“啊。”他说。
“然后呢?”我质问他。“我告诉你这个村子马上就有灭顶之灾,我告诉你他们的武器有多可怕,你就只会说个‘啊’?”
“你有更好的词么?”他问。
“对,我还真有一个:撤退!”我喊了起来。
“我们不能那么做。”他回到。
“见鬼,为什么不行?”
“德国人和你们是不是同一类人?”
“根本不是。”我说。“他们残忍,好战,狡诈又——”
他摇了摇头。“大象不能和河马配对。狮子不能和水牛交配。”他看着我。“英国人能和德国人结婚么?”
“当然能。”我说。
“啊。”他笑着说。“你们是同一类人。”
“所以你们就只是在这里等着德国人出现?”
“他们不会伤害到我们。”他非常自信的说。“穆泰菩佤会保护我们。”
“穆泰菩佤?”我重复了一遍。“那是你们的神吗?”
他摇摇头。“我们的神是恩盖。穆泰菩佤是我们的蒙达穆古。”
“蒙达穆古又是什么?”我问。
他试图向我解释,经过几次尝试我终于明白了蒙达穆古就是基库尤的巫医。
最后我说:“我必须和穆泰菩佤谈谈。我一定要在这个无知落后的村子里找到一个能够理解危险正在临近的人。”
“啊。”他说,然后派人去请穆泰菩佤。没多久,一个看上去满身褶子,营养不良,秃脑壳上顶着几绺白发的老头一瘸一拐的走了过来。
“穆泰菩佤,这位是沃尔登·史蜜滋中尉。”恩戈尼说着,把我的名字念得比平时还要错的离谱。“他来这里警告我们必须要保护村子。”
“英国人要来攻击我们了?”穆泰菩佤问。
“是德国人!”我怒吼着。
“请原谅。”老巫医说。“他们之间的唯一区别就是名称不一样,所以很容易搞混。”
我真想知道,我们究竟是为了什么才在你们这群无足轻重的野蛮人身上浪费时间。我大声的说:“我来这儿是为了让你们做好准备。告诉你们要面对的到底是什么情况。”
“我认为我们已经知道了。”穆泰菩佤说到。“要是德国人赢了,他们就会夺走我们的土地,向我们征税,强迫我们为他们干活。”我正要告诉他,比起英国人在这里的所作所为,德国人只会更加强硬,更加冷血,就听他又接着说:“这真是可怕的命运,但我不会让它发生在我们的村子里。”
“很好。”我说。“记着把头抬起来,把眼睛睁大点儿。”
“抬头?”他皱着眉重复着,看上去不太理解我的意思。我第一千次的希望我是在法国的战壕里,而不是在一块毫无价值的大陆中部和一群无关紧要的野蛮人纠缠不清。
“我的意思是你们要提高警惕。”我尽量让自己不要流露出轻蔑的语气。“或者用你们的话说,别把所有的时间都花在寻找美味的蛆虫上。注意观察德国人,竖起耳朵听他们的动静,做好准备。要是他们开始放火或是开着坦克进村,就赶快撤退。”
“观察,”他点头重复着。“听。做好准备。”
尽管我们说的是斯瓦希里语,我依然怀疑他是否听懂了我的话。我知道这些蒙达穆古的伎俩。他们会在雨季即将来临前做法求雨。这样只要进入雨季开始下雨,所有人都会认为是他们求来了雨。他们会在午夜听到两里地以外的狮子咬死了一只羚羊,然后对其他人解释说他们刚刚命令狮子杀死了一个马赛人或者伦布瓦人——反正就是他们部落的某个敌人。所以我有充足的理由相信当德国人的军队挺入村庄,抢走所有食物,再奸污几个稍有姿色的女孩儿,穆泰菩佤就会解释说这一切都是恩盖的旨意,是神因为村里人没有更加虔诚的相信蒙达穆古的力量而降下的惩罚。
“好吧。”我对这场鸡同鸭讲的对话感到厌倦了。“你知道该怎么做了?”
他点点头。“抬起我的头。”
“很对。”我说。
“要是德国人已经离此不远,你在夜里四处走动就很不安全了。”穆泰菩佤接着说。“你应该在村里找个空棚子过夜。”
“我接受你的提议”我说。“倒不是因为我害怕那些德国渣滓。”
事实上我确实不怕那些德国人。我答应留下来是因为我在白天就已经走错了三次路,要是我一个人在夜里回去,我肯定会迷路的。更别说丛林里还有无数的食肉动物正在为猎取晚餐而四处溜达。
所以我让他把我领到了一个空的棚屋里。一个可爱的女孩儿给我拿来一篮子水果,甚至还有一葫芦非洲粟酒——一种当地的啤酒,然后就离开了。我吃了点水果,喝光了所有的酒,然后倒头就睡。
两个小时后我被吵醒了。吵醒我的是机械车辆穿过灌木丛的声音,同时还伴着德国人透过扩音器传出的叫喊声。
该死的!我想。我来迟了一天。现在我们全都要死了!
我小心翼翼的站起来走出棚屋。有那么一会,我被坦克的前灯晃得什么也看不见。随着我的眼睛适应了灯光,我向四周看去。村子里所有的人都聚在这里了,睁着惺忪睡眼好奇的打量着那些坦克和德国人,而且因为该死的无知,没有显出一丝一毫的惧意。
“他妈的!”我小声的抱怨。“我说过了让你们抬起头保持警惕。你们是怎么让这么明晃晃闹哄哄的机器潜入到村子里的?”
我的话刚溜出嘴边,一辆坦克就炸成了一个火球,里面的坦克手痛苦地尖叫着。片刻之后,第二辆坦克也有样学样的爆炸了,但是这一次我看清了它是被——呃,被我身后大约二十米远的什么东西给击中的。
我转过身,看到了一具无头的男性身体,全身上下只有一块缠腰布。一开始我以为他是被德国人射掉了脑袋,只是身子还没来的及倒下去。然后我向上看去。没错,向上看。就在那里,大概离地十米高的地方,悬停着那具身体的头颅。
我盯着那颗头颅,发现他就是穆泰菩佤。他冲我眨了眨眼,然后又向剩下的那些坦克和士兵看去。他从眼睛里射出一道闪光,被他盯住的目标瞬间就被一道白色的烈焰吞没了。德国兵还没来的及叫喊就死掉了,坦克则化成了一滩铁水。
穆泰菩佤的脑袋飞回了他的身体。头颅和脖子刚连接上,他就朝我走了过来。
“谢谢你,中尉。”他说。
“为什么要谢我?”我被刚刚看到的状况震惊了,对此迷惑不解还没缓过神来。
“因为你告诉了我应该怎么打败他们。”他又一次的笑着说。“抬起头。”他重复着。
“那可真是——无以伦比!”我热切的称赞着。
“蒙达穆古的职责就是要保护他的族人。”
“现在你已经做到了。”
“还没有。”他说着,他的头颅再一次离开了身体漂浮在他的正上方。“我现在才正要开始这么做。”
他那边话音未落,我就感觉到他正在直勾勾的盯着我看。
「完」
by Mike Resnick 迈克·雷斯尼克
Translated by Ninesnow
2014-07-22
彗星科幻
(译文见后)
It was July of the year 1917, and for the hundredth time I found myself wishing that I’d been assigned to the Western Front rather than stuck here in the middle of Africa, thousands of miles away from the action. My little island was engaged in The War to End All Wars against the Germans. Oh, sure, other countries were involved too, but they didn’t count. It was the English against the Germans, and all the rest was a sideshow.
So here I was, trudging down a narrow path covered with piles of elephant shit, dive-bombed not by the notorious Red Baron but by a bunch of goddamned tsetse flies, approaching not Berlin or even Munich, but a Kikuyu village that had no name and couldn’t be found on any map of the territory. (It had that in common with a couple of hundred other Kikuyu villages I’d been to.)
Maybe if I hadn’t learned to speak Swahili on some hunting trips before the war I’d have been stationed where I could actually do some good. Maybe I could have been an honest-to-goodness soldier instead of just a useless errand boy. But instead fighting Germans I was foot-slogging through the bush, watching out for lions and leopards, ready to climb a tree if I ran into an enraged elephant, hoping none of the snakes I passed in the high grass were poisonous.
Finally I came to Ngoni’s village, just as the sun was starting to set. A couple of warriors armed with crude spears escorted me to his hut, then made me stand there for a couple of minutes until he emerged to greet me.
“Good day, Lieutenant,” he said, mispronouncing the word terribly. “What news do you bring today?”
“The Germans are on the move,” I said. “My information is that they crossed the border from Tanganyika to Kenya two days ago.”
“Ah,” he said. I wish I knew what “Ah” meant, because it seemed to be his favorite word.
“They should reach this area within another day,” I said.
“Ah,” he said.
It was all I could do not to slap him and tell him to pay attention. “So keep your head up.”
He stared at me with a puzzled expression. “Keep my head up?” he said. He put a hand under his chin. “It is not down.”
Idiot! I thought. “I mean, keep alert. Watch out for anything unusual, unless you want the Germans to wipe out your village.”
“I have never even seen a German,” he said. “Their battle is with the British, not the Kikuyu. Why should we be worried?”
“Because you are in British territory,” I explained patiently.
He smiled. “Ah,” he said. “You mean that the British are in Kikuyu territory.”
“Just be alert,” I said, realizing that it would be fruitless to argue international law with an illiterate savage.
“I appreciate your concern,” said Ngoni, “but you need have no worry about us.”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “The Germans are well-armed.”
“They have more than two apiece?” he asked, frowning.
I shook my head. “I mean, they come with powerful weapons.”
“Ah,” he said. “You mean they have the same weapons that the British use to slay our animals, the same ones they used to take what you now call the White Highlands away from the Kikuyu people.”
I didn’t want to get into a long argument with him about how we were making the land more productive, so I simply started describing what a tank is and how it worked and the damage it could do.
“And you say that the Germans, with all these strange weapons, may be here tomorrow?” asked Ngoni.
“Maye even today,” I answered.
“Ah,” he said.
“That’s it?” I demanded. “I tell you about the devastation that’s headed toward your village, about the weapons of destruction they have, and all you can say is ‘Ah’?”
“Have you a better word?” he asked.
“Yes, I have one: leave!” I yelled.
“We cannot do that,” he answered.
“Why the hell not?”
“The Germans are very much like you, are they not?”
“No,” I answered. “They’re mean, and warlike, and dishonest, and—”
He shook his head. “An elephant cannot mate with a hippo. A lion cannot mate with a buffalo.” He stared at me. “Can the British mate with the Germans?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Ah,” he said with a smile. “There you have it.”
“So you’re just going to stay here and wait for the Germans to show up?”
“They will not harm us,” he said confidently. “Mtepwa will protect us.”
“Mtepwa?” I repeated. “Is that your god?”
He shook his head. “Our god is Ngai. Mtepwa is our mundumugu.”
“What’s a mundumugu?” I asked.
He tried to explain, and after several attempts I finally understood that a mundumugu is a Kikuyu witch doctor.
“I must speak to Mtepwa,” I said at last. “I must find someone in this backward village who understands the danger that is approaching.”
“Ah,” he said, and then called out for Mtepwa. A moment later an old, wrinkled, undernourished man with a few strands of white hair on his mostly bald head hobbled over.
“Mtepwa, this is Lieutenant Walden-Smythe,” said Ngoni, mispronouncing my name even worse than usual. “He is here to warn us that we must protect our village.”
“From the British?” asked Mtepwa.
“From the Germans!” I growled.
“Forgive me,” said the old witch doctor. “The only difference between them is the names, so it is easy to confuse the two.”
Why are we wasting our time on ignorant savages like you? I wondered. Aloud I said, “I am here to prepare you, to tell you what to expect.”
“I think we already know,” said Mtepwa. “If the Germans win, they will take our land, and tax us, and force us to serve them.” I was about to say that they would be much more forceful and unfeeling about it than the British when he added, “It is a terrible fate, and I will not let it befall this village.”
“Good,” I said. “Just keep your head up and your eyes open.”
“Keep my head up?” he repeated, frowning as though he couldn’t understand what I was saying. For the thousandth time I wished I was in the trenches in France, rather than dealing with ignorant savages in the middle of a totally worthless continent.
“I mean be alert,” I said, trying to keep the contempt out of my voice. “Or in your case, don’t spend all your time looking for tasty grubworms to eat. Watch for the Germans. Listen for their approach. Be prepared to retreat if they start firing or driving their tanks through the village.”
“Watch,” he repeated, nodding his head. “Listen. Be prepared.”
Even though we were speaking in Swahili, I wondered if he even knew what the words meant. I knew about mundumugus. Right before the rainy season they’d pray for rain, and when it came everyone was sure they had brought it. They’d hear lions bring down an antelope two miles away in the middle of the night, and explain that they had just ordered the lions to kill a Maasai or a Lumbwa, one of their tribal enemies. And I was absolutely certain that when the Germans arrived, marched through the village, stole all the stored food, and raped a couple of the prettier girls, Mtepwa would explain that this was Ngai’s way of punishing the village for not believing even more devoutly in their mundumugu’s powers.
“Okay,” I said, tiring of what was passing for a conversation. “You know what to do?”
He nodded. “Keep my head up.”
“Right,” I said.
“If the Germans are close, it is not safe for you to be wandering around in the dark,” added Mtepwa. “You should spend the night in an empty hut.”
“I think I’ll accept your offer,” I said. “Not that I’m afraid of those German scum.”
And in truth it wasn’t that I was afraid of the Germans. It was that I’d already gotten lost three times during the daylight, and I would certainly get lost if I began walking alone at night, especially with all the predators hunting for their dinners.
So I let him lead me to an empty hit. A lovely girl brought me a basket of fruit, and even a gourd of pombe, the native beer, and then I was alone. I ate some of the fruit, drank all of the pombe, and lay down to sleep.
I was awakened two hours later by the sound of mechanized vehicles coming through the underbrush, and German voices yelling through bullhorns.
Damn! I thought. I got here a day too late. Now we’re all going to die!
I cautiously got to my feet and walked out of the hut. For a moment I was blinded by the headlights of the tanks. Then, as my eyes became used to the light, I looked around. The entire population of the village stood there, half-asleep, curious about the tanks and the Germans, and too damned ignorant to be afraid.
“Shit!” I muttered softly. “I told you to keep your head up. How could you let machines that are this loud and this bright sneak up on the village?”
And no sooner had the words left my mouth than one of the tanks exploded in a ball of flame, its crew screaming in agony. A moment later a second tank did the same thing, but this time I saw that it had been struck by…well, by something perhaps twenty meters behind me.
I turned and saw a headless male body, clad only in a loincloth. At first I thought the Germans had shot its head off and that the body simply hadn’t collapsed yet, and then I looked up. Yes, up. And there, maybe ten meters above the ground, was the body’s head.
I stared at it and realized that it was Mtepwa. He winked at me, then looked back at the remaining German tank and soldiers, and a flash of light leaped out of his eyes and engulfed them in a white-hot flame. They were dead before they could scream, and the tank was a molten puddle.
Mtepwa’s head floated back down to his body. When they were joined, he walked over to me.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said.
“For what?” I asked, still shocked and mystified by what had transpired.
“For telling me how to defeat them,” he said, and then smiled again. “‘Keep your head up,’” he repeated.
“That was just…remarkable!” I said enthusiastically.
“It is a mundumugu’s job to protect his people.”
“And now you have accomplished it.”
“No,” he said, and his head suddenly left his body and once again floated well above it. “Now I have begun it.”
And I had a feeling that he was looking directly at me as the words left his mouth.
现在是1917年的七月,我已经无数次希望自己被分配到西部战线,而不是像现在这样被困在非洲中部,和战斗隔着十万八千里。我的祖国——虽说是个不大的岛国——正在和德国人进行着一场“以战止战”的战争。哦,当然,也有别的国家搅了进来,但是他们都算不上数。这是英国人与德国人之间的战争,其他的不过是中央舞台之外的助兴演出。
于是我就出现在这里了,在堆满了大象糞便的羊肠小道上艰难跋涉,承受一次又一次的俯冲轰炸——只不过攻击我的是一群又一群该死的采采蝇,而不是臭名昭著的“红男爵”。我正要去往的地点不是柏林,甚至不是慕尼黑,而是在这片区域的地图上都无法标记出来的一个籍籍无名的基库尤村庄。(我已经去过的几百个基库尤村子都是这么的内敛低调。)
说起来,要不是我在战前的狩猎旅行中学会了斯瓦希里语,也许我就会被派遣到能够发挥我的实力的地方。也许我会成为一名货真价实的战士,而不是一个毫无用处的信使。现实是,我没和德国人干起来,而是在丛林中步履维艰,警惕着会不会有狮子、豹子窜出来,准备着在碰见发狂的大象时爬到树上,指望着我在高高的草丛中跨过的每一条蛇都没有毒。
我终于赶在太阳落山之前抵达了恩戈尼的村子。几个拿着粗糙长矛的武士把我带到他的棚屋前,让我等着。我在门口站了几分钟后,他才出来迎接我。
“你好啊,仲尉。今天又带来什么消息了?”听他讲“中尉”这个词简直是一场灾难。
“德国人开始行动了,”我说。“我得到的消息说他们两天前从坦噶尼喀进入了肯尼亚境内。”
“啊。”他说。我真希望我能明白“啊”是什么意思,他似乎非常喜欢说“啊”。
“他们这两天就会到达这个地区。”我说。
“啊。”他说。
我努力不让自己扇他一个大嘴巴,好让他意识到问题的严重性。“总之,把你们的头都抬起来。”
他迷惑不解的看着我。“抬头?”他伸手托住下巴对我说:“我没低着头啊。”
蠢货!我在心里暗想。“我的意思是,你们要提高警惕。要是不想让德国人把你的村子夷为平地,就要注意所有反常的事情。”
“我还从来没见到过德国人呢。”他说。“和他们打仗的是英国人,又不是我们基库尤人。我们为什么要担心德国人?”
“因为你们在英国的领土内。”我耐心地向他解释。
他笑了。“啊,你是说英国在基库尤的领土内。”
“你们只要保持警惕就好。”我已经意识到和大字不识的野人讲国际法简直就是对牛弹琴。
恩戈尼对我说:“很感谢你对我们的担心,但我们是不会有事的。”
“你根本就不明白。”我说。“德国人手段高明。”
“他们还不只两只手?”他皱着眉问。
我直摇头。“我是说他们有很强大的武器。”
“啊。”他说。“你的意思是他们和英国人用的是同样的武器?英国人用那些武器屠杀我们的动物,还抢走了基库尤人的土地。就是你们现在叫做‘白人高地’的那块地”。
我不想浪费口舌和他没完没了的争论我们是如何更加有效的利用那个地区,提高土地产能的。所以我开始向他描述坦克看上去是什么样子,它是怎么进行攻击的,还有它的破坏力有多大。
“你是说德国人和这些奇怪的武器明天就会到这儿来?”恩戈尼问。
“很可能今天就到。”我回答。
“啊。”他说。
“然后呢?”我质问他。“我告诉你这个村子马上就有灭顶之灾,我告诉你他们的武器有多可怕,你就只会说个‘啊’?”
“你有更好的词么?”他问。
“对,我还真有一个:撤退!”我喊了起来。
“我们不能那么做。”他回到。
“见鬼,为什么不行?”
“德国人和你们是不是同一类人?”
“根本不是。”我说。“他们残忍,好战,狡诈又——”
他摇了摇头。“大象不能和河马配对。狮子不能和水牛交配。”他看着我。“英国人能和德国人结婚么?”
“当然能。”我说。
“啊。”他笑着说。“你们是同一类人。”
“所以你们就只是在这里等着德国人出现?”
“他们不会伤害到我们。”他非常自信的说。“穆泰菩佤会保护我们。”
“穆泰菩佤?”我重复了一遍。“那是你们的神吗?”
他摇摇头。“我们的神是恩盖。穆泰菩佤是我们的蒙达穆古。”
“蒙达穆古又是什么?”我问。
他试图向我解释,经过几次尝试我终于明白了蒙达穆古就是基库尤的巫医。
最后我说:“我必须和穆泰菩佤谈谈。我一定要在这个无知落后的村子里找到一个能够理解危险正在临近的人。”
“啊。”他说,然后派人去请穆泰菩佤。没多久,一个看上去满身褶子,营养不良,秃脑壳上顶着几绺白发的老头一瘸一拐的走了过来。
“穆泰菩佤,这位是沃尔登·史蜜滋中尉。”恩戈尼说着,把我的名字念得比平时还要错的离谱。“他来这里警告我们必须要保护村子。”
“英国人要来攻击我们了?”穆泰菩佤问。
“是德国人!”我怒吼着。
“请原谅。”老巫医说。“他们之间的唯一区别就是名称不一样,所以很容易搞混。”
我真想知道,我们究竟是为了什么才在你们这群无足轻重的野蛮人身上浪费时间。我大声的说:“我来这儿是为了让你们做好准备。告诉你们要面对的到底是什么情况。”
“我认为我们已经知道了。”穆泰菩佤说到。“要是德国人赢了,他们就会夺走我们的土地,向我们征税,强迫我们为他们干活。”我正要告诉他,比起英国人在这里的所作所为,德国人只会更加强硬,更加冷血,就听他又接着说:“这真是可怕的命运,但我不会让它发生在我们的村子里。”
“很好。”我说。“记着把头抬起来,把眼睛睁大点儿。”
“抬头?”他皱着眉重复着,看上去不太理解我的意思。我第一千次的希望我是在法国的战壕里,而不是在一块毫无价值的大陆中部和一群无关紧要的野蛮人纠缠不清。
“我的意思是你们要提高警惕。”我尽量让自己不要流露出轻蔑的语气。“或者用你们的话说,别把所有的时间都花在寻找美味的蛆虫上。注意观察德国人,竖起耳朵听他们的动静,做好准备。要是他们开始放火或是开着坦克进村,就赶快撤退。”
“观察,”他点头重复着。“听。做好准备。”
尽管我们说的是斯瓦希里语,我依然怀疑他是否听懂了我的话。我知道这些蒙达穆古的伎俩。他们会在雨季即将来临前做法求雨。这样只要进入雨季开始下雨,所有人都会认为是他们求来了雨。他们会在午夜听到两里地以外的狮子咬死了一只羚羊,然后对其他人解释说他们刚刚命令狮子杀死了一个马赛人或者伦布瓦人——反正就是他们部落的某个敌人。所以我有充足的理由相信当德国人的军队挺入村庄,抢走所有食物,再奸污几个稍有姿色的女孩儿,穆泰菩佤就会解释说这一切都是恩盖的旨意,是神因为村里人没有更加虔诚的相信蒙达穆古的力量而降下的惩罚。
“好吧。”我对这场鸡同鸭讲的对话感到厌倦了。“你知道该怎么做了?”
他点点头。“抬起我的头。”
“很对。”我说。
“要是德国人已经离此不远,你在夜里四处走动就很不安全了。”穆泰菩佤接着说。“你应该在村里找个空棚子过夜。”
“我接受你的提议”我说。“倒不是因为我害怕那些德国渣滓。”
事实上我确实不怕那些德国人。我答应留下来是因为我在白天就已经走错了三次路,要是我一个人在夜里回去,我肯定会迷路的。更别说丛林里还有无数的食肉动物正在为猎取晚餐而四处溜达。
所以我让他把我领到了一个空的棚屋里。一个可爱的女孩儿给我拿来一篮子水果,甚至还有一葫芦非洲粟酒——一种当地的啤酒,然后就离开了。我吃了点水果,喝光了所有的酒,然后倒头就睡。
两个小时后我被吵醒了。吵醒我的是机械车辆穿过灌木丛的声音,同时还伴着德国人透过扩音器传出的叫喊声。
该死的!我想。我来迟了一天。现在我们全都要死了!
我小心翼翼的站起来走出棚屋。有那么一会,我被坦克的前灯晃得什么也看不见。随着我的眼睛适应了灯光,我向四周看去。村子里所有的人都聚在这里了,睁着惺忪睡眼好奇的打量着那些坦克和德国人,而且因为该死的无知,没有显出一丝一毫的惧意。
“他妈的!”我小声的抱怨。“我说过了让你们抬起头保持警惕。你们是怎么让这么明晃晃闹哄哄的机器潜入到村子里的?”
我的话刚溜出嘴边,一辆坦克就炸成了一个火球,里面的坦克手痛苦地尖叫着。片刻之后,第二辆坦克也有样学样的爆炸了,但是这一次我看清了它是被——呃,被我身后大约二十米远的什么东西给击中的。
我转过身,看到了一具无头的男性身体,全身上下只有一块缠腰布。一开始我以为他是被德国人射掉了脑袋,只是身子还没来的及倒下去。然后我向上看去。没错,向上看。就在那里,大概离地十米高的地方,悬停着那具身体的头颅。
我盯着那颗头颅,发现他就是穆泰菩佤。他冲我眨了眨眼,然后又向剩下的那些坦克和士兵看去。他从眼睛里射出一道闪光,被他盯住的目标瞬间就被一道白色的烈焰吞没了。德国兵还没来的及叫喊就死掉了,坦克则化成了一滩铁水。
穆泰菩佤的脑袋飞回了他的身体。头颅和脖子刚连接上,他就朝我走了过来。
“谢谢你,中尉。”他说。
“为什么要谢我?”我被刚刚看到的状况震惊了,对此迷惑不解还没缓过神来。
“因为你告诉了我应该怎么打败他们。”他又一次的笑着说。“抬起头。”他重复着。
“那可真是——无以伦比!”我热切的称赞着。
“蒙达穆古的职责就是要保护他的族人。”
“现在你已经做到了。”
“还没有。”他说着,他的头颅再一次离开了身体漂浮在他的正上方。“我现在才正要开始这么做。”
他那边话音未落,我就感觉到他正在直勾勾的盯着我看。
「完」