p&c.icelimit-第27部分

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Farlane　that　the　mist　was　thickening；　growing　darker　again。　Suddenly；　a　forest　of　antennas　solidified　out　of　the　gloom；　forward　anchor　light　glowing　pale　white。　The　foghorn　once　again　blasted　its　warning；　but　the　vessel　came　unrelentingly　toward　them　at　full　speed；　a　creamy；　snarling　wake　of　foam　cutting　across　its　gray　bows。　Its　outlines　became　clearer。　It　was　a　destroyer；　its　sides　pitted　and　scarred　and　streaked　with　rust。　Chilean　flags　fluttered　from　its　superstructure　and　fantail。　Four…inch　guns；　stubby　and　evil…looking；　sat　in　housings　on　the　fore　and　aft　decks。
　Britton　was　screaming　into　the　bullhorn。　Collision　alarms　sounded；　and　McFarlane　could　feel　the　bridge　wing　shaking　beneath　him　as　the　engines　tried　to　pull　away。　But　it　was　impossible　to　turn　the　big　ship　quickly　enough。　He　planted　his　feet；　grasping　the　railing；　preparing　for　impact。
　At　the　last　moment；　the　destroyer　sheered　to　port；　gliding　past　the　tanker　with　no　more　than　twenty　yards　to　spare。　Britton　lowered　the　bullhorn。　All　eyes　followed　the　smaller　vessel。
　Every　gun　of　the　destroyer　…　from　the　big　deck　turrets　to　the　40…millimeter　cannon　…　was　trained　on　the　bridge　of　the　Rolvaag。　McFarlane　stared　at　the　ship　in　mingled　perplexity　and　horror。　And　then　his　eyes　fell　on　the　destroyer's　flying　bridge。
　Standing　alone；　in　full　uniform；　was　the　naval　andante　they　had　met　that　morning　in　customs。　Wind　tugged　at　the　gold　bars　on　his　officer's　cap。　He　was　passing　so　close　beneath　them　that　McFarlane　could　see　the　beads　of　moisture　on　his　face。
　Vallenar　paid　them　no　mind。　He　was　leaning　against　a　。50…caliber　machine　gun　mounted　to　the　rail；　but　it　was　a　posture　of　false　ease。　The　barrel　of　the　gun；　its　perforated　snout　heavy　with　sea　salt　and　rust；　was　aimed　directly　at　them；　an　insolent　promise　of　death。　His　black　eyes　skewered　them　one　at　a　time。　His　withered　arm　was　clutched　against　his　chest　at　a　precise　angle　to　his　body。　The　man's　gaze　never　wavered；　and　as　the　destroyer　slid　by；　both　he　and　the　machine　gun　rotated　slowly；　keeping　them　in　view。
　And　then　the　destroyer　fell　astern　of　the　Rolvaag；　slipping　back　into　the　mist；　and　the　specter　was　gone。　In　the　chill　silence　that　remained；　McFarlane　heard　the　destroyer's　engines　rumble　up　to　full　speed　once　again；　and　felt　the　faintest　sensation　of　rocking　as　its　wake　passed　beneath　the　tanker。　It　had　the　gentle　up…and…down　motion　of　a　baby's　cradle；　and；　if　it　had　not　been　terrifying；　would　have　been　distinctly　forting。
　
　Rolvaag；
　July　13；　6：30　A。M。
　
　MCFARLANE　STIRRED　in　the　predawn　darkness　of　his　stateroom。　The　bedsheets　were　twisted　around　hum　in　a　cyclone　of　linen；　and　the　pillow　beneath　his　head　was　heavy　with　sweat。　He　rolled　over；　still　half　asleep；　instinctively　reaching　for　Malou's　forting　warmth。　But　save　for　himself；　the　berth　was　empty。
　He　sat　up　and　waited　for　his　pounding　heart　to　find　its　normal　rhythm　as　the　disconnected　images　of　a　nightmar　…　a　ship；　tossed　on　a　stormy　sea　…　receded　from　his　mind。　As　he　passed　a　hand　across　his　eyes；　he　realized　that　not　everything　had　been　a　dream：　the　motion　of　the　water　was　still　with　him。　The　ship's　movement　had　changed；　instead　of　the　usual　gentle　roll；　it　felt　shuddery　and　rough。　Throwing　aside　the　sheets；　he　walked　to　the　window　and　pulled　the　curtain　back。　Sleet　splattered　against　the　Plexiglas；　and　there　was　a　thick　coating　of　ice　along　its　lower　edge。
　The　dark　set　of　rooms　seemed　oppressive　and　he　dressed　hurriedly；　eager　for　fresh　air　despite　the　nasty　conditions。　As　he　trotted　down　the　two　flights　of　stairs　to　the　maindeck；　the　ship　rolled　and　he　was　forced　to　steady　himself　on　the　railing　for　support。
　As　he　opened　the　door　leading　out　of　the　superstructure　a　blast　of　icy　wind　buffeted　his　face。　It　was　bracing；　and　it　drove　the　last　vestiges　of　the　nightmare　from　his　mind。　In　the　half…light　he　could　see　the　windward　vents；　davits；　and　containers　plastered　with　ice；　the　deck　awash　in　slush。　McFarlane　could　now　hear　clearly　the　boom　of　a　heavy　sea　running　the　length　of　the　ship。　Out　here；　the　roll　of　the　vessel　was　more　pronounced。　The　dark；　moiling　seas　were　periodically　whitened　with　great　bing　waves；　the　faint　hiss　of　the　breaking　water　ing　to　his　ears　over　the　moaning　of　the　wind。
　Someone　was　leaning　up　against　the　starboard　railing；　head　sunk　forward。　As　he　approached；　he　saw　it　was　Amira；　bundled　once　again　in　the　ridiculously　oversized　parka。　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　he　asked。
　She　turned　toward　him。　Deep　within　the　furred　hood　of　the　parka；　he　made　out　a　green…tinged　face。　A　few　tendrils　of　black　hair　escaped；　whipped　back　by　the　wind。
　〃Trying　to　puke；〃　she　said。　〃What's　your　excuse？〃
　〃Couldn't　sleep。〃
　Amira　nodded。　〃I'm　hoping　that　destroyer　es　by　again。　I'd　like　nothing　better　than　to　unload　the　contents　of　my　stomach　on　that　ugly　little　andante。〃
　McFarlane　did　not　answer。　The　encounter　with　the　Chilean　vessel；　and　speculation　about　andante　Vallenar　and　his　motives；　had　dominated　dinner…table　talk　the　previous　night。　And　Lloyd；　when　he　heard　of　the　incident；　had　bee　frantic。　Only　Glinn　seemed　unconcerned。
　〃Will　you　look　at　this？〃　Amira　said。　Following　her　gaze；　McFarlane　saw　the　dark　form　of　a　jogger；　clad　only　in　gray　warm…ups；　making　its　way　along　the　port　rail。　As　he　stared；　he　realized　it　was　Sally　Britton。
　〃Only　she　would　be　man　enough　to　go　jogging　in　this　weather；〃　Amira　said　sourly。
　〃She's　pretty　tough。〃
　〃More　like　crazy。〃　Amira　snickered。　〃Look　at　that　sweatshirt　bouncing　around。〃
　McFarlane；　who　had　been　looking　at　it；　said　nothing。
　〃Don't　get　me　wrong。　I　take　a　purely　scientific　interest。　I'm　thinking　how　one　would　calculate　an　equation　of　state　for　those　rather　impressive　breasts。〃
　〃An　equation　of　state？〃
　〃It's　something　we　physicists　do。　It　relates　all　the　physical　properties　of　an　object　…　temperature；　pressure；　density；　elasticity　…　〃
　〃I　get　the　picture。〃
　〃Look；〃　Amira　said；　abruptly　changing　the　subject。　〃'There's　another　wreck。〃
　In　the　bleak　winter　distance；　McFarlane　could　see　the　outline　of　a　large　ship；　its　back　broken　on　a　rock。
　〃What　is　that；　four？〃　Amira　asked。
　〃Five；　I　think。〃　As　the　Rolvaag　headed　south　from　Puerto　Williams　toward　Cape　Horn；　the　sightings　of　giant　shipwrecks　had　grown　more　frequent。　Some　were　almost　as　large　as　the　Rolvaag。　The　area　was　a　veritable　graveyard　of　shipping；　and　the　sight　no　longer　brought　any　surprise。
　Britton　had　by　now　rounded　the　bow　and　was　heading　in　their　direction。
　〃Here　she　es；〃　said　Amira。
　As　Britton　drew　up　to　them；　she　slowed；　jogging　in　place。　Britton's　warm…up　suit　was　damp　with　sleet　and　rain；　and　it　clung　to　her　body。　Equation　of　state；　McFarlane　thought　to　himself。
　〃I　wanted　to　let　you　know　that；　at　nine　o'clock；　I'm　going　to　issue　a　deck　safety…harness　order；〃　she　said。
　〃Why's　that？〃　McFarlane　asked。
　〃A　squall　is　ing。〃
　〃ing？〃　Amira　said　with　a　bleak　laugh。　〃It　looks　like　it's　already　here。〃
　〃As　we　head　out　of　the　lee　of　Isla　Navarino；　we're　going　to　be　heading　into　a　gale。　Nobody　will　be　allowed　on　deck　without　a　harness。〃　Britton　had　answered　Amira's　question；　but　she　was　looking　at　McFarlane。
　〃Thanks　for　the　warning；〃　McFarlane　said。　Britton　nodded　to　him；　then　jogged　away。　In　a　minute　she　was　gone。
　〃What　is　it　you　have　against　her？〃　McFarlane　said。
　Amira　was　silent　a　moment。　〃Something　about　Britton　bugs　me。　She's　too　perfect。〃
　〃I　think　that's　what　they　call　an　air　of　mand。〃
　〃And　it　seemed　so　unfair；　the　whole　ship　suffering　because　of　her　booze　problem。〃
　〃It　was　Glinn's　decision；〃　said　McFarlane。
　After　a　moment；　Amira　sighed　and　shook　her　head。　〃Yeah；　that's　vintage　Eli；　isn't　it？　You　can　bet　there's　an　unbroken　line　of　impeccable　logic　leading　up　to　that　decision。　He　just　hasn't　told　anybody　what　it　is。〃
　McFarlane　shivered　under　a　fresh　blast　of　wind。　〃Well；　I've　had　enough　sea　air　to　last　awhile。　Shall　we　get　some　breakfast？〃
　Amira　let　out　a　groan。　〃You　go　ahead；　I'll　wait　here　awhile　longer。　Sooner　or　later；　something's　bound　to　e　up。〃
　
　After　breakfast；　McFarlane　headed　to　the　ship's　library；　where　Glinn　had　asked　to　meet　him。　The　library；　like　everything　about　the　vessel；　was　large。　Windows；　streaked　with　sleet；　covered　one　wall。　Beyond　and　far　below；　he　could　see　snow　driving　almost　horizontally；　whirling　into　the　black　water。
　The　shelves　contained　a　wide　assortment　of　books：　nautical　texts　and　treatises；　encyclopedias；　Reader's　Digest　condensations；　forgotten　best…sellers。　He　browsed　through　them；　waiting　for　Glinn；　feeling　unsettled。　The　closer　they　got　to　Isla　Desolacion　…　to　the　spot　where　Masangkay　died　…　the　more　restless　he　became。　They　were　very　close　now。　Today；　they　would　round　the　Horn　and　anchor　in　the　Horn　Islands　at　last。
　McFarlane's　fingers　stopped　at　the　slender　volume：　The　Narrative　of　Arthur　Gordon　Pym　of　Nantucket。　This　was　the　Edgar　Allan　Poe　title　Britton　mentioned　at　dinner　that　first　night　at　sea。　Curious；　he　took　it　to　the　nearest　sofa。　The　dark　leather　felt　slippery　as　he　settled　into　it　and　cracked　the　book。　The　pleasant　smell　of　buckram　and　old　paper　rose　to　his　nostrils。
　My　name　is　Arthur　Gordon　Pym。　My　father　was　a　respectable　trader　in　sea　stores　at　Nantucket；　where　I　was　born。　My　ma