30
Zn
Zinc
锌
65.38

Brass

Tubal-cain, that industrious man, was hard at work in his smithy when the warrior walked through the door. At this time, seven generations descended from Adam, war hadn’t been perfected yet. The earliest war, between Cain and Abel, was thought to have been so horrific that war would never happen again. But Seth-abel was an innovator. “What’s that you’re working on?” he asked.

The metal-smith turned the object in his forge. “A plowshare.”

“I don’t suppose you could make me one of them, only about so long, and straight, with a sharp edge on it?”

“Certainly I could.” Tubal-cain lifted the glowing metal from the forge. “This long enough?”

“Yes, but I want it to be slender. Like a wedge. And put a handle at one end, with a little flange of metal above it.”

Amiably, Tubal-cain put the length of brass against his anvil and with hammer and chisel cut off the excess metal. Then he hammered it long again, and set it back in the forge. “Strange harvest you must be planning,” he remarked conversationally.

“Aye, a crimson one.” The warrior idly picked up a bar of greyish metal. “What’s this?”

“Zinc. It’s what gives the brass its hardness. Copper gives it color, but zinc gives it strength.”

“It’s strength that matters to me. Strength and the ability to hold an edge. Your father taught you how to mix the metals, did he?”

“No, it’s my own invention.”

“You’re the only one who knows how to make brass, then?”

“Me and my sons.”

“So if I were to kill all three of you, there’s nobody else who could make any more brass implements?”

“Why, what a funny thought! I suppose that’s true.”

The warrior grinned widely. “Well, I’ll be back tomorrow, then. Be sure to have your boys here. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them.”

He left.

Tubal-cain thought for a while. He did not like the direction of his thoughts, but he followed them where they led. Then he put two more bars of brass in the forge.

When the plowshares were done, he studied them carefully. They looked dangerous. He did not think they would be of much use breaking earth. But they might be good at other things.

The next day he called his two sons to him, and gave them each one of the brass implements. They were both good, strong lads. “Hide in the back room,” he said. “Watch through the slit. Make no sound.”

Uncertainly, his eldest son said, “What do you suspect, Father?”

“I can’t put a name to it—it’s too foul. Now go.”

His sons did as he commanded. Tubal-cain returned to his forge, and to his thoughts.

If he was wrong, all was well. If right, then he would die but not his sons. They were strong and smart. They would know what to do. Two deaths would be a terrible, shocking thing, but nothing so terrible as three. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped that if he were right, this thing could be stopped here and now.

The warrior entered, whistling.

黄铜

当战士走过门时，土八该隐，那个打造匠人的祖师爷，正在他的铁匠铺里努力工作着。这时候，亚当家传到了第七代人，战争看上去还不像是那么回事。该隐与亚伯之间那场最早的战争在这个年代被认为恐怖无比，没人会觉得战争应该再次发生。但是塞特·亚伯有点新想法。 “你在做什么？”他问。

那个金属匠人把他打的东西翻了个身：“犁头。”

“我在想你能不能给我也来上一把，只不过要长点，而且直点，边缘再给我整锋利点？”

“当然没问题。”土八该隐把打得亮堂堂的金属从锻炉上抬起来，“这么长行吗？”

“行，但是我希望它再细点。就像一个楔子那样。然后在一端安上个手柄，用一点金属把它们连起来。”

土八该隐亲切地答应着，把这条长长的黄铜放在砧上，用锤子和凿子将多余的金属切掉。然后他又锤打了很长时间，最后把它放回到了锻炉里。“你要收获的田肯定很奇怪吧。”他攀谈说。

“是的，那会是场深红色的丰收。”那个战士懒散地捡起一条灰色的金属条，“这是什么？”

“锌。就是它让黄铜有了硬度。铜赋予了颜色，但锌赋予了强度。”

“强度对我来说很重要。一是强度，二是保持优势。是你父亲教的你怎么混合金属吗？”

“不，这是我自己发明的。”

“那么，你是唯一会做黄铜的人吗？”

“还有我的儿子们。”

“所以，如果我杀死了你们三个人，那就再没有其他人可以制造黄铜器了是吧？”

“你怎么会想到这么奇怪的事！我想是这样没错。”

战士大笑起来：“好吧，那我明天再来。一定要让你的孩子们也过来。我已经很久没见过他们了。”

说完他就走了。

土八该隐想了一会儿。他不喜欢他想的方向，但他还是随任自己的思想发散。然后，他在锻造炉中又放了两根黄铜棒。

犁头们都打造好后，他仔细研究了它们一番。这些犁看起来很危险。他觉得在破地这用途上这些犁没有太大用处。但是它们可能很适合用来干点别的事。

第二天，他把两个儿子叫了过来，并给他们都配上了黄铜打造的那东西。他们人都是好人，而且够强壮。“躲在后面的房间里。”他说，“从隙里往这边看。别发出声音。”

他的大儿子不太确定地说：“父亲，您在怀疑什么？”

“我不愿意提起那个名字——那个名字太肮脏了。现在进去吧。”

他的儿子们听从了他的吩咐。土八该隐回到他的锻铁炉那儿，继续他的思考。

如果他错了，那一切都好。如果他猜对了，那他会死，但他的儿子们会。他们强壮、聪明。他们会知道该怎么办的。死两个人是一件可怕的事，谁都不会想到这么可怕的事，但即使如此也比死三个人强。他希望自己猜错了。他也希望，如果他猜得真的没错，那么此事可以在此刻被了结。

战士吹着口哨进来。