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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
Listening to his narrative1 I had completely forgotten the events of the previous night, the slain2 streetwalkers, and my suspicion of Holmes.
"At this point," Holmes continued, "I knew that I needed to consult an expert. Mr. Wells, of whom I spoke3 earlier, was that expert, and I could not have asked for a better source. We discussed the possibility of life on other worlds. Mr. Wells offered the opinion that, since there are millions upon millions of suns very much like our own Sun in the sky, that certainly there must be other intelligences, and other civilisations, some of which must be as far beyond ours as our English civilisation4 is beyond that of the African savage5."
"Then you take this strange aeroship to be a vehicle from another world?" I asked. While I had heard such ideas discussed in popular lectures on astronomy, I had, heretofore, always dismissed these as purest fancy.
"A provisional hypothesis, to be confirmed or forgotten as further data became available. I went on to ask Mr. Wells whether such citizens of other worlds might be human in shape and thought. At this suggestion he was most frankly6 contemptuous. Such beings would have no more reason to be shaped in our form, he said, than we in that of an octopus7 or an ant. Likewise they might take no more notice of our civilisation and our morality than we take of the endeavors and ethics8 of an ant hill.
"This I had already surmised9. I turned the talk to biology, and without tipping my hand, managed to steer10 the conversation to the unusual life-cycles of other species. One in particular he mentioned struck my attention, the life-cycle of the ichneumon, or solitary11 wasp13."
"I wish that I were, my dear doctor. Pray listen; all of this is germane15 to the subject at hand. The ichneumon wasp has a rather gruesome life-cycle. When the female wasp is ready to lay eggs, it finds and stings a cicada, often one much larger than itself, and then deposits its egg inside the body of the paralyzed but still living insect. This insect then serves as sustenance16 for the hatching larva, which forms its home within the living insect, having the instinct to avoid eating the essential organs until the very last, when it is ready to exit into the world to lay eggs of its own.
"This was enough for me to frame my provisional hypothesis. I believed that some strange being from the aeroship had not merely met the fatally injured man, but crawled inside his body and taken control of his gross physical function.
"I was struck by one fact. Of all the people that this . . . alien . . . might have met, it was a dying man who he—it—actually chose. Clearly, then, the . . . thing . . . believed itself unable to subdue17 an uninjured person."
"I must confess, Holmes, if I were asked to prove your sanity18, this story would hardly bolster19 your case."
"Ah, Watson, always the practical man. Permit me." He got out of the leather chair, crossed the room to where he had put down the leather satchel20, and laid it on the table in front of me.
I sat paralyzed. "I dare not, Holmes."
"Your courage has never failed you before, my friend."
With a shudder21 I touched the satchel, and then, steeling myself, opened it. Inside was some object covered in streaks22 of gore23. I didn't want to look, but knew that I must.
The two eggs inside were of a translucent24 purplish white, large as a moderate-sized mango, and slick with a film of blood. Within each one a monstrous25 coiled shape could be discerned. No Earthly animal ever laid such an egg, of this I was sure. More horrible than the eggs was the other thing. I shuddered26 and looked away. It was something like a giant prawn27, and something like some jungle millipede, with dozens of long barbed feelers and multiply-jointed appendages28 bristling29 with hooks and spines30. Its head, or what passed for a head, had been nearly severed31 with a knife, and the wound exuded32 a transparent33 fluid rather like whale-oil, with a sharp and unpleasant odor similar to kerosene34. Instead of a mouth, it had a sucking orifice rimmed35 with myriad36 tiny hooked teeth.
"This is what I removed from her body," Holmes said.
I looked up at him. "My God," I whispered. "And she was not dead?"
"You asked that question before. It is a question of definitions, Watson. All that was left alive in her body was the thing that you see. By removing it, did I kill her?"
I shuddered again, and slammed the satchel shut with my eyes averted37. "No." I stood for a moment, trying to regain38 my composure. "But why Whitechapel?"
"What you saw was a juvenile," said Holmes. "The adult would be much larger. I would not know if it is intelligent, or what we call intelligent, but it is at least very clever. Why Whitechapel? Think, Watson. It had eggs and juveniles39 it must deposit into a living body. But how is it to approach a complete stranger, embrace him—or her—closely enough to? Ah, you see the picture. It was the perfect place for the thing, Watson; the only place where it could do what it needed.
"I studied the East End in minute detail, tracing the path of the mysterious stranger. Again and again I was too late, sometimes only by minutes. I removed the juveniles from the corpses40 out of necessity. I say corpses, Watson, for although they still walked upright they were already dead. Had I not killed them, they would have gone to cover until they were mature. I could find the one, I knew, only by concentrating on the one trail. Even then it would be a near thing. Two of them, and I were lost."
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"And tell them what? To start a man-hunt for a thing they can only find by ripping open bodies?"
Holmes laughed. "Why should I need to?" he said. "Fakes, forgeries42, and cranks, every one. Even I am continuously amazed at how many odd people there are in London. I daresay they came from newspapers hungry to manufacture news, or from pranksters eager at a chance to make fools of Scotland Yard."
"But, what do we do?"
"Surely you wouldn't think that, now that I know the danger, I would let you continue alone."
"Ah, my good Watson, I would be lost without you. Well, I am hot on its trail. It cannot elude44 me much longer. We must find it and kill it, Watson. Before it kills again."
By the next morning the whole episode seemed a nightmare, too fantastical to credit. I wondered how I could have believed it. And yet, I had seen it—or had I? Could I have deluded45 myself into seeing what Holmes had wanted me to see?
No. It was real. I could not afford to doubt my own sanity, and hence I must believe in Holmes'.
In the next few days Holmes went back to his daytime reconnaissance of the East End, mapping the way buildings abutted46 and how doorways47 aligned48 with alleys50, like a general planning his campaign, stopping for conversation with workmen and constables51 alike.
On the third day, my business in town kept me late into the evening. At the end of it, it was almost certain that I had purchased a practice, and at a price which I could afford, but the sealing of the deal required an obligatory52 toast, and then there were more papers to be inspected and signed, so that all in all, it was well past ten in the evening when I returned to Baker53 Street.
Of Holmes there was only a note: "I have gone to see the matter to its conclusion. It is better that you are out of it, and I shall think no less of you if you stay. But if you must follow, then look for me near the blind court at Thrawl Street." I read it and swore. He seemed determined54 to leave me out of this adventure, no matter how dangerous it was for him alone. I snatched my greatcoat and hat from the hall stand, fetched my revolver out from the drawer where it resided, and went out into the night.
It was the night of the great carboniferous fog. The gas-lights were pale yellow glimmers55 that barely pierced the roiling56 brown stink57. The cab I hailed almost ran me down before seeing me in the street in front of him.
The fog in Whitechapel was even thicker and yellower than that of Baker Street. The cab left me off in front of the Queen's Head pub, the cabbie warning me of the danger of the neighborhood. The blind court was one which was being resurfaced by the MacAdam method, in which the street was covered with liquid tar12, and a layer of gravel58 rolled into the tar surface. The process results in a surface which is even and far easier to repair than cobblestone. I can see the day when all of London will have such smooth, quiet streets.
Earlier Holmes had talked with some of the workmen as they rolled the gravel. Now they were long gone. The half-full cauldron of tar was still at the corner of the alley49. Although the oil-pot which heated it to boiling had been removed, the cooling drum of tar still gave out quite a bit of heat.
Three unfortunate women had lit a small fire out of wood-scraps59 and huddled60 between the warm cauldron and their fire, with their hands toward the tiny fire and their backs against the cauldron for warmth. The glow of the fire gave a luminous61 orange cast to the surrounding fog. A tiny pile of additional wood scraps stood waiting to keep the fire going for the rest of the night.
Holmes was nowhere in sight.
The women spotted62 me looking at them, and whispered amongst themselves. One came up to me and attempted a smile. "Care to spend some money and buy a poor unfortunate a drink, dearie?" She tossed her head toward the end of the street where the pub was invisible in the fog, and at the same time flicked63 her skirt in such a way as to allow me a clear view of her bare ankle.
I averted my eyes. "I'm looking for a friend."
"I could be a friend, if you wanted me to."
"No. I don't need . . . that sort of comfort."
"Oh, sure you do, dearie." She giggled64. "All men do. 'Sides, I h'aint even got money for me doss. Surely a fine gent like yourself has a shilling to spend on a poor lady down on 'er luck, hasn't he? Sure 'e does."
I looked at her more closely, and she preened65 for my inspection66. She might have been a rather pretty woman, striking if not actually beautiful, if she had been given the chance. Instead I saw the lines on her face, the threadbare bonnet67 she wore, and the unmistakable signs of the early stages of consumption. Such a woman should be resting in bed, not out standing68 in the chill of a night such as this. I was about to speak to her, to invite her into the public house for the drink she requested, for no other reason than to get her out of the chill and away, perhaps, from the monster that stalked the fog-shrouded night. I could wait for Holmes as well in the pub as in the street.
As I was about to speak, I heard a man approach from the blind end of the court, although I had seen no one there previously69. I started to call out, thinking it must be Holmes, but then saw that, while the man was quite as tall as Holmes, he was much bulkier, with a considerable paunch and ill-fitting clothes. As he passed, another of the women smiled at him and called a greeting. He nodded at her. As she put out her arm for him to take, he dropped his hand to the buttons of his trousers. I looked away in disgust, and as I did so the woman who had spoken to me slipped her arm around mine.
I had lost track of the third woman, and was as surprised as the others when her voice rang out from behind. "Stop, fiend!"
The voice was calm and authoritative70. I looked up. The woman was holding a revolver—Holmes' hair-trigger revolver—in an unwavering grip aimed at the man's head. I looked closely at her face and saw, beneath the makeup71, the thin, hawk-like nose and the unmistakable intense gaze of Sherlock Holmes.
The other man swiveled with surprising speed and sprang at Holmes. I pulled my hand loose from my lady companion and in an instant snatched my revolver free of my pocket and fired. Our two shots rang out at almost the same instant, and the man staggered and fell back. The two bullets had both hit above the left eye, and taken away the left half of the cranium.
The women screamed.
The man, with half his head missing, reached out a hand and pulled himself to his feet. He came at Holmes again.
I fired. This time my bullet removed what was left of his head. His jutting72 windpipe sucked at the air with a low sputtering73 hiss74, and in the gaping75 neck I thought I saw purplish-white tendrils feeling about. The shot slowed him down for no more than an instant.
Holmes' shot took him in the middle of the chest. I saw the crimson76 spot appear and saw him rock from the impact, but it seemed to have no other effect.
We both fired together, this time lower, aiming for the horror hidden somewhere within the body. The two shots spun77 the headless thing around. He careened against the cauldron of tar, slipped, and fell down, knocking the cauldron over.
In an instant Holmes was upon him.
"Holmes, no!"
For a moment Holmes had the advantage. He pushed the monster forward, into the spreading pool of tar, struggling for a hold. Then the monster rose, dripping tar, and threw Holmes off his back with no more concern than a horse tossing a wayward circus monkey. The monster turned for him.
Holmes reached behind him and grabbed a brand out of the fire. As the monster grabbed him he thrust it forward, into the thing's chest.
The tar ignited with an awful whoosh78. The thing clawed at its chest with both hands. Holmes grabbed the cauldron, and with one mighty79 heave poured the remainder of the tar onto the gaping wound where its head had once been.
Holmes drew back as the flames licked skyward. The thing reeled and staggered in a horrible parody80 of drunkenness. As the clothes burned away, we could see that where a man's generative organs would have been was a pulsing, wickedly barbed ovipositor with a knife-sharp end writhing81 blindly in the flames. As we watched it bulged82 and contracted, and an egg, slick and purple, oozed83 forth84.
"Quickly, Watson! Here!"
Holmes shoved one of the pieces of firewood into my hands, and took another himself. We stationed ourselves at either side of the body.
The horrors which emerged were somewhat like enormous lobsters87, or some vermin even more loathsome88 and articulated. We bludgeoned them as they emerged from the burning body, trying as we could to avoid the oily slime of them from splattering onto our clothes, trying to avoid breathing the awful stench that arose from the smoking carcass. They were tenacious89 in the extreme, and I think that only the disorientation of the fire and the suddenness of our attack saved our lives. In the end six of the monstrosities crawled out of the body, and six of the monstrosities we killed.
There was nothing remotely human left in the empty shell that had once been a man. Holmes pulled away his skirts and petticoat to feed the fire. The greasy90 blood of the monstrosities burned with a clear, hot flame, until all that remained were smoldering91 rags with a few pieces of unidentifiable meat and charred92 scraps of bone.
It seemed impossible that our shots and the sounds of our struggle had not brought a hundred citizens with constables out to see what had happened, but the narrow streets so distorted the sounds that it was impossible to tell where they had originated, and the thick blanket of fog muffled93 everything as well as hiding us from curious eyes.
Holmes and I left the two daughters of joy with what money we had, save for the price of a ride back to Baker Street. This we did, not with an eye toward their silence, as we knew that they would never go to the police with their story, but in the hopes—perhaps foolish—that they might have a respite94 from their hard trade and a warm roof over their heads during the damp and chill months of winter.
It has been two months now, and the Whitechapel killings95 have not resumed. Holmes is, as always, calm and unflappable, but I find myself unable to look at a wasp now without having a feeling of horror steal across me.
There are as many questions unanswered as answered. Holmes has offered the opinion that the landing was unintentional, a result of some unimaginable accident in the depths of space, and not the vanguard of some impending96 colonization97. He bases this conclusion on the fact of the ill-preparedness and hasty improvisation98 of the being, relying on luck and circumstance rather than planning.
I think that the answers to most of our questions will never be known, but I believe that we have succeeded in stopping the horrors, this time. I can only hope that this was an isolated99 ship, blown off-course and stranded100 far from the expected shores in some unexpected tempest of infinite space. I look at the stars now, and shudder. What else might be out there, waiting for us?
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1
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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octopus
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| n.章鱼 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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12
tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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wasps
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| 黄蜂( wasp的名词复数 )； 胡蜂； 易动怒的人； 刻毒的人 | |
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germane
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| adj.关系密切的，恰当的 | |
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sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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23
gore
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| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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prawn
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| n.对虾，明虾 | |
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appendages
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| n.附属物( appendage的名词复数 )；依附的人；附属器官；附属肢体（如臂、腿、尾等） | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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spines
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| n.脊柱( spine的名词复数 )；脊椎；（动植物的）刺；书脊 | |
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severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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exuded
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的过去式和过去分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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rimmed
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| adj.有边缘的，有框的v.沿…边缘滚动；给…镶边 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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juveniles
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| n.青少年( juvenile的名词复数 )；扮演少年角色的演员；未成年人 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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42
forgeries
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| 伪造( forgery的名词复数 )； 伪造的文件、签名等 | |
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eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
abutted
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| v.（与…）邻接( abut的过去式和过去分词 )；（与…）毗连；接触；倚靠 | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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aligned
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| adj.对齐的，均衡的 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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52
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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53
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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glimmers
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| n.微光，闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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56
roiling
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| v.搅混（液体）( roil的现在分词 )；使烦恼；使不安；使生气 | |
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stink
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| vi.发出恶臭；糟透，招人厌恶；n.恶臭 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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60
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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62
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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63
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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64
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
preened
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| v.（鸟）用嘴整理（羽毛）( preen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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67
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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68
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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69
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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70
authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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71
makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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72
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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73
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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74
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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75
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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76
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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77
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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78
whoosh
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| v.飞快地移动，呼 | |
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79
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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80
parody
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| n.打油诗文，诙谐的改编诗文，拙劣的模仿；v.拙劣模仿，作模仿诗文 | |
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81
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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82
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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83
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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84
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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85
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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86
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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87
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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88
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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89
tenacious
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| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
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90
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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91
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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92
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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93
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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94
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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95
killings
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| 谋杀( killing的名词复数 )； 突然发大财，暴发 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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97
colonization
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| 殖民地的开拓，殖民，殖民地化； 移殖 | |
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98
improvisation
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| n.即席演奏(或演唱)；即兴创作 | |
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99
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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100
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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