The baggage hall at Gate Zero never closed. Nuri had worked the night shift there for three months, and she thought she had seen everything. Suitcases arrived from cities that were not on any map. Once, a crate of singing eggs had rolled down the belt. They had sung a lullaby to the whole hall.
零号登机口的行李大厅从不关门。努里在那里上了三个月的夜班，她觉得自己什么怪事都见过了。行李箱从地图上根本找不到的城市运来。有一次，一箱会唱歌的鸡蛋顺着传送带滚下来，给整个大厅唱了一首摇篮曲。
On that Friday, at twenty past three, a black trumpet case came round the carousel. It was the ninth time. Nobody had claimed it. Nuri lifted it off the belt and set it on her cart.
那个星期五的凌晨三点二十分，一只黑色的小号盒绕着转盘转了过来。这已经是第九圈了。没有人来认领。努里把它从传送带上拎下来，放到自己的推车上。
"Another lost thing," said Uriel. He was the other night worker, and he was eating crackers from a paper bag. "Put it in the cage with the umbrellas."
“又是一件失物，”乌里埃尔说。他是另一个值夜班的工人，正在吃纸袋里的饼干。“放进那个装雨伞的笼子里吧。”
"Wait. There is a label on the handle," said Nuri.
“等等。把手上有个标签，”努里说。
The label was written in silver ink. It said: Deliver before the last lamp goes out. Under the words, someone had drawn two small arrows that pointed in opposite directions. Nuri opened the case. On a bed of green velvet lay a trumpet with a dented bell. The third valve was stuck halfway down, and no amount of pushing would move it.
标签是用银色墨水写的，上面写着：在最后一盏灯熄灭之前送到。字下面有人画了两个小箭头，方向相反。努里打开盒子，绿色的天鹅绒垫子上躺着一把号碗凹了一块的小号。第三个活塞卡在半途，怎么按都按不动。
"It's broken," Uriel said, leaning over her shoulder. "Nobody can play that."
“坏了，”乌里埃尔凑到她肩后说，“没人吹得了这个。”
"Let's see," said Nuri. She had played the trumpet at school for six years, and she could not walk away from one. She lifted it to her lips and blew one soft note.
“试试看，”努里说。她在学校吹了六年小号，见到小号就挪不开步子。她把它举到唇边，轻轻吹出一个音。
The note did not stay in the air. It spread across the far wall like a drop of ink in water, and a doorway opened there. It shone pale gold, and through it Nuri saw a street full of paper lanterns. A few seconds later the doorway folded shut.
那个音没有留在空中。它像一滴墨水落进水里一样，在远处的墙上晕开，墙上随即出现了一道门。门泛着淡淡的金光，努里透过它看见一条挂满纸灯笼的街道。几秒钟后，那道门收拢合上了。
Uriel dropped his crackers. "Do that again."
乌里埃尔手里的饼干掉在了地上。“再来一次。”
She blew a lower note, which was the only other sound the stuck valve allowed. A second doorway opened beside the first one. This door was cool and blue. Behind it was a long workshop where hundreds of tools hung from hooks. It stayed open a little longer than the gold one, then it closed too.
她吹了一个低一点的音，卡住的活塞只允许她吹出这另一个音。第一道门旁边又开了第二道门。这道门清凉，泛着蓝色。门后是一间长长的工坊，几百件工具挂在挂钩上。它比金色的门开得稍微久一点，然后也关上了。
"Two doors," Nuri said slowly. "The valve only lets me open two."
“两道门，”努里慢慢地说，“这个活塞只让我打开两道门。”
"Then the arrows on the label are the two choices," said Uriel. He pulled a folded card out of the lid. "Look at this. It says the trumpet belongs to the Lantern Band. They play at the Harbour of Clouds tonight, and the last lamp goes out at dawn."
“那标签上的两个箭头就是两种选择，”乌里埃尔说。他从盒盖里抽出一张折起来的卡片。“看这个。上面说这把小号属于灯笼乐队。他们今晚在云港演出，最后一盏灯在黎明时熄灭。”
Nuri checked the big clock above the carousel. Dawn was less than two hours away. "So the gold door must lead to the harbour."
努里看了看转盘上方的大钟。离黎明不到两个小时了。“那么金色的门应该通向云港。”
"And the blue door goes to a workshop, which means somebody can fix the valve," said Uriel. He grinned. "I vote for the workshop. If we deliver a broken trumpet, the band will be angry with us. If we fix it first, we can say we did a proper job."
“蓝色的门通向工坊，也就是说有人能修好这个活塞，”乌里埃尔说着咧嘴笑了，“我投工坊一票。要是我们送去一把坏小号，乐队会生我们的气。要是先修好，我们就可以说活儿干得很到位。”
"But a repair might take all night," said Nuri. "If we arrive after the last lamp goes out, the whole delivery is useless."
“可是修理说不定要花上一整夜，”努里说，“要是我们在最后一盏灯熄灭之后才到，整趟送货就白费了。”
They stood in silence while the carousel hummed. Both choices were fair. A fixed trumpet was a better trumpet, and a trumpet that arrived on time was a better delivery. Nuri turned the instrument over in her hands and looked more closely at the stuck valve.
转盘嗡嗡作响，两个人沉默地站着。两种选择都有道理。修好的小号是更好的小号，准时送到的小号才是更好的投递。努里把乐器翻过来拿在手里，凑近仔细看那个卡住的活塞。
Under the metal, a tiny brass wedge sat tightly in the gap. It was polished and smooth, like a key that someone had used a hundred times. The wedge was not an accident. It had been pushed in on purpose, and a careful hand had put it there.
金属下面，一块小小的黄铜楔子紧紧嵌在缝隙里。它被打磨得光滑发亮，像一把被人用过上百次的钥匙。这块楔子不是意外，是有人故意塞进去的，而且塞的人手法很细心。
"Uriel, look at this," she said. "Nobody would polish a piece of damage. This wedge is part of the trumpet."
“乌里埃尔，你看这个，”她说，“没有人会去打磨一处损坏。这块楔子是小号的一部分。”
"Maybe the owner is lazy," said Uriel.
“也许是主人懒吧，”乌里埃尔说。
"Maybe the owner wants it stuck," said Nuri. "If we take it to the workshop, they will pull the wedge out first thing. Then we will never know why it was there."
“也许是主人想让它卡住，”努里说，“要是把它送去工坊，他们一上手就会把楔子拔出来。那我们就永远不会知道它为什么在那儿了。”
Uriel rubbed his neck. "That is a good point. But you are guessing."
乌里埃尔揉了揉脖子。“你说得有道理。可你这是猜的。”
"I know," said Nuri. "So let me guess in the direction where we are not too late. If the band needs the trumpet tonight, we should take it to the band."
“我知道，”努里说，“所以让我朝着不会迟到的方向去猜。要是乐队今晚就需要这把小号，我们就该把它送到乐队那里。”
Uriel looked at the blue door, which was already fading, and then at the gold one. After a moment he nodded. "Fine. We deliver it. But if it goes wrong, I am telling everyone it was your idea."
乌里埃尔看看已经在渐渐变淡的蓝色门，又看看金色的门。过了一会儿，他点了点头。“好吧。我们去送。不过要是出了岔子，我就告诉所有人这是你的主意。”
Nuri put the trumpet to her lips again. The high note opened the gold door, and this time she did not wait. She grabbed the case, and the two of them ran through together.
努里再次把小号举到唇边。高音打开了金色的门，这一次她没有再等。她抓起盒子，两人一起跑了进去。
The Harbour of Clouds was a wooden pier built on top of a soft white sea. Lanterns floated above the water, and hundreds of people stood in the dim light. On a small stage at the end of the pier, five musicians were waiting. One of them, a girl about Nuri's age, held an empty hand where a trumpet should have been.
云港是一座建在柔软白色海面上的木栈桥。灯笼漂浮在水面上方，几百个人站在昏暗的光线里。栈桥尽头的小舞台上，五位乐手正在等待。其中一个和努里年纪相仿的女孩，本该握着小号的那只手空着。
"You found it!" the girl cried. She jumped off the stage and took the case. "We have been searching all night. The carousel keeps sending my things to the wrong hall."
“你们找到了！”女孩喊道。她从舞台上跳下来，接过盒子。“我们找了一整夜。那个转盘总把我的东西送到错的大厅去。”
"We nearly took it to be repaired," Uriel said. "The valve is stuck."
“我们差点把它送去修了，”乌里埃尔说，“活塞卡住了。”
The girl laughed, and then she looked at Nuri with real respect. "I am glad you didn't. I stuck it on purpose. A free valve opens every door in the world, and I can't close them all again. Last year the harbour was flooded with visitors from forty different cities. The wedge keeps the trumpet to two doors only, one for coming and one for going."
女孩笑了，然后带着真正的敬意看着努里。“我很高兴你们没这么做。那是我故意卡住的。一个能自由活动的活塞能打开世上所有的门，而我没办法把它们全都关上。去年，海港被来自四十个不同城市的访客淹没了。这块楔子让小号只能开两道门，一道用来来，一道用来去。”
"So the workshop would have ruined it," Nuri said quietly.
“所以送去工坊就会毁了它，”努里轻声说。
"It would have made it dangerous," said the girl. "Please stay for the last song. You have earned it."
“会让它变得危险，”女孩说，“请留下来听最后一首歌吧。这是你们应得的。”
They stood at the back of the crowd. At the end of the night, the band played a slow, sweet tune. Then the girl lifted her trumpet for the final two notes. The high note lit every lantern on the water. The low note carried the light across the sea until the whole sky glowed. It was the best thing Nuri had ever heard, and she did not say a word.
他们站在人群后面。夜晚将尽时，乐队演奏了一支缓慢甜美的曲子。然后女孩举起小号，吹最后的两个音。高音点亮了水面上的每一盏灯笼。低音载着光芒越过大海，直到整片天空都亮了起来。这是努里听过的最美的东西，她一句话也说不出来。
When the last lamp went out, the girl pressed a small brass wedge into Nuri's hand. "A spare," she said. "In case the world ever needs another lock."
最后一盏灯熄灭时，女孩把一块小小的黄铜楔子按进努里手里。“备用的，”她说，“万一哪天世界需要再多一把锁。”
Then the gold door opened one more time. The two night workers stepped back into the baggage hall. The big clock showed five to five. The belt was empty and the cart stood where they had left it. The air smelled faintly of lantern smoke.
然后金色的门又开了一次。两位夜班工人走回行李大厅。大钟指着四点五十五分。传送带上空空的，推车还停在他们离开时的地方。空气里隐约有灯笼的烟味。
Uriel stared at the carousel. "Nuri, the belt just started moving again, and it is playing music."
乌里埃尔盯着转盘。“努里，传送带刚刚又转起来了，而且还在放音乐。”
