p&c.icelimit-第66部分

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he　officers　were　at　their　stations。　〃What　the　hell　was　that？〃　Lloyd　asked　sharply。
　No　one　answered　him。　Glinn　had　returned　to　his　operative's　side　and　was　conferring　with　him　in　low；　urgent　tones。　There　was　a　deep　vibration　in　the　ship；　almost　like　a　groan。　It　was　followed　by　another。
　And　then；　as　abruptly　as　it　began；　the　disturbance　ceased：　the　screens　returned；　the　lights　brightened　and　steadied。　There　was　a　chorus　of　chirps　and　whirrs　as　devices　across　the　bridge　rebooted。
　〃We　don't　know　what　it　was；〃　Britton　said；　finally　answering　Lloyd's　question。　Her　eyes　swept　over　the　instrumentation。　〃Some　kind　of　general　malfunction。　An　explosion；　perhaps。　It　seems　to　have　affected　all　ship's　systems。〃　She　turned　to　the　chief　mate。　〃I　want　a　damage　assessment　right　away。〃
　Howell　picked　up　the　telephone　and　made　two　quick　calls。　After　the　second；　he　replaced　the　phone；　face　ashen。　〃It's　the　holding　tank；〃　he　said；　〃the　one　with　the　meteorite。　There's　been　a　serious　accident。〃
　〃What　kind　of　accident？〃　Glinn　asked。
　〃A　discharge　from　the　rock。〃
　Glinn　turned　to　McFarlane　and　Amira。　〃Get　on　it。　Find　out　what　happened　and　why。　And　Dr。　Brambell；　you　better　get　to　…　〃
　But　Brambell　had　already　disappeared　from　the　bridge。
　
　Almirante　Ramirez；
　8：30　A。M。
　
　VALLENAR　STARED　hard　into　the　murk；　as　if　the　act　of　staring　itself　would　bring　the　elusive　tanker　into　view。
　〃Status；〃　he　murmured　again　to　the　conning　officer。
　〃With　the　jamming；　sir；　it's　hard　to　tell。　My　best　estimate　is　that　the　target　is　heading　zero　nine　zero　at　approximately　sixteen　knots。〃
　〃Range？〃
　〃Sir；　I　can't　tell　exactly。　Somewhere　around　thirty　nautical　miles。　We　wouldn't　even　have　that　close　a　fix；　except　their　jamming　seemed　to　drop　briefly　a　few　minutes　ago。〃
　Vallenar　could　feel　a　rhythmic　surge　to　his　ship：　a　sickening　lifting　and　dropping　of　the　deck。　He　had　only　felt　this　motion　once　before；　when　he　had　been　caught　in　a　storm　south　of　Diego　Ramirez　during　a　training　mission。　He　knew　what　this　odd　motion　meant：　the　distance　between　the　wave　crests　had　begun　to　exceed　twice　the　length　of　the　Almirante　Ramirez。　He　could　see　the　following　sea　from　the　aft　windows：　long　muscular　swells；　topped　with　a　breaking　line　of　water；　ing　at　his　stern　and　foaming　along　the　hull　before　disappearing　forward　into　the　darkness。　Once　in　a　while　a　giant　wave；　a　tigre；　would　e　up　from　behind；　the　water　piling　up　against　the　rudder；　giving　the　helmsman　a　loose　wheel　and　threatening　to　shove　the　destroyer　around；　causing　it　to　broach　to。　It　would　only　get　worse　when　they　turned　south　and　took　the　sea　on　their　beam。
　Reaching　thoughtfully　into　his　pocket；　he　withdrew　a　puro　and　examined　its　soiled　outer　leaves　absently。　He　thought　of　the　two　dead　divers；　their　cold　stiff　bodies　wrapped　in　tarps　and　stored　in　sea　lockers　aft。　He　thought　of　the　three　others；　who　never　resurfaced；　and　a　fourth；　shivering　now　in　the　last　stages　of　hypothermia。　They　had　done　their　duty　…　no　more；　and　no　less。　The　ship　was　seaworthy。　True；　they　could　make　only　twenty　knots　with　their　damaged　propellers。　But　the　tanker　was　only　making　sixteen。　And　the　long　eastward　run　toward　international　waters　was　giving　him　the　time　he　needed　to　achieve　his　strategy。
　He　glanced　back　at　the　conning　officer。　The　crew　was　frightened：　of　this　storm；　of　this　chase。　That　fear　was　good。　Frightened　men　worked　faster。　But　Timmer　had　been　worth　any　ten　of　them。
　He　bit　off　the　end　of　the　cigar　and　spat　it　away。　Timmer　had　been　worth　the　entire　plement。。。
　Vallenar　mastered　himself；　taking　the　time　to　light　the　cigar　carefully；　methodically。　The　glowing　red　tip　reflected　back　from　the　inky　windows。　By　now　they　surely　knew　he　was　ing　after　them　once　again。　This　time　he　would　be　more　careful。　He　had　fallen　into　their　trap　once；　and　he　would　not　allow　it　to　happen　again。　Initially；　his　plan　had　been　to　cripple　the　ship。　But　now　it　was　clear　that　Timmer　was　dead。　The　time　for　mere　crippling　was　long　past。
　Five　hours；　maybe　less；　would　bring　them　into　range　of　his　four…inch　guns。　In　the　meantime；　if　there　was　even　a　short　respite　from　jamming；　the　Exocets　were　ready　to　fire　at　a　moment's　notice。
　This　time；　there　would　be　no　mistake。
　
　Rolvaag；
　9：20　A。M。
　
　AS　MCFARLANE　ran　down　the　center　corridor　of　the　medical　suite；　Rachel　on　his　heels；　he　almost　collided　with　Brambell；　stepping　through　the　operating　room　door。　He　was　a　very　different　Brambell　than　the　wry；　dry　man　of　the　dinner　table：　this　Brambell　was　grim；　his　movements　brusque；　his　wiry　frame　tense。
　〃We're　here　to　see　…　〃　McFarlane　began；　but　Brambell　was　stalking　down　the　hall　and　disappearing　behind　another　door；　paying　them　not　the　slightest　bit　of　attention。　McFarlane　glanced　at　Rachel。
　Following　Brambell's　path；　they　entered　a　brightly　lit　room。　The　doctor；　who　was　still　wearing　a　pair　of　surgical　gloves；　stood　over　a　gurney；　examining　a　motionless　patient。　The　man's　head　was　swathed　in　bandages；　and　the　surrounding　sheets　were　soaked　in　blood。　As　McFarlane　watched；　Brambell　jerked　a　sheet　over　the　man's　head　with　a　sharp；　angry　motion。　Then　he　turned　to　a　nearby　sink。
　McFarlane　swallowed　hard。　〃We　need　to　speak　with　Manuel　Garza；〃　he　said。
　〃Absolutely　not；〃　Brambell　said　as　he　broke　scrub；　ripping　off　the　pair　of　bloody　gloves　and　dashing　his　hands　under　hot　water。
　〃Doctor；　we　must　question　Garza　about　what　happened。　The　safety　of　the　ship　depends　on　it。〃
　Brambell　stopped　in　his　tracks；　looking　at　McFarlane　for　the　first　time。　His　face　was　somber　but　controlled。　He　said　nothing　for　a　moment；　and　McFarlane　could　see　behind　the　mask　the　racing　mind　of　a　doctor　making　a　decision　under　extreme　pressure。
　〃Room　Three；〃　he　said　as　he　pulled　on　a　fresh　pair　of　surgical　gloves。　〃Five　minutes。〃
　They　found　Garza　in　a　small　room；　wide　awake。　His　face　was　bruised；　his　eyes　blackened；　and　his　head　heavily　bandaged。　When　the　door　opened；　he　swiveled　his　dark　gaze　at　them；　then　looked　away　immediately。　〃They're　all　dead；　aren't　they？〃　he　whispered；　eyes　on　the　bulkhead。
　McFarlane　hesitated。　〃All　but　one。〃
　〃But　he's　also　going　to　die。〃　It　was　a　statement；　not　a　question。
　Rachel　came　over　and　laid　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　〃Manuel；　I　know　how　hard　this　must　be　for　you。　But　we　need　to　know　what　happened　in　the　holding　tank。〃
　Garza　did　not　look　at　her。　He　pursed　his　lips；　blinked　his　blackened　eyes。　〃What　happened？　What　do　you　think　happened？　That　goddamn　meteorite　went　off　again。〃
　〃Went　off？〃　McFarlane　repeated。
　〃Yeah。　It　exploded。　Just　like　it　did　with　that　guy　Timmer。〃　McFarlane　and　Rachel　exchanged　glances。
　〃Which　one　of　your　men　touched　it？〃　Rachel　asked。
　Garza　suddenly　turned　to　stare　at　her。　McFarlane　wasn't　sure　if　his　look　was　one　of　surprise；　anger；　or　disbelief；　the　wide　purple　moon…holes　of　his　eyes　seemed　to　draw　all　expression　from　the　rest　of　his　face。
　〃Nobody　touched　it。〃
　〃Somebody　must　have。〃
　〃I　said　nobody。　I　was　watching　every　minute。〃
　〃Manuel　…　〃　Rachel　began。
　He　rose　angrily。　〃You　think　my　men　were　crazy？　They　hated　being　near　that　thing；　they　were　scared　to　death　of　it　Rachel；　I'm　telling　you；　nobody　got　within　five　feet。〃　
　He　winced　and　lay　back。
　After　a　moment；　McFarlane　spoke　again。　〃We　need　to　know　exactly　what　you　saw。　Can　you　tell　us　what　you　remember；　right　before　it　happened？　What　was　going　on？　Did　you　notice　anything　unusual？〃
　〃No。　The　men　were　almost　finished　with　the　welding。　Some　of　them　had　finished。　The　job　was　virtually　done。　Everyone　was　still　wearing　their　protective　gear。　The　ship　was　heeling。　It　seemed　to　be　taking　a　pretty　big　wave。〃
　〃I　remember　that　wave；〃　Rachel　said。　〃Are　you　sure　nobody　lost　his　balance；　nobody　put　out　an　involuntary　hand　to　steady　…　〃
　〃You　don't　believe　me；　do　you？〃　he　asked。　〃Tough　shit；　because　it's　true。　Nobody　touched　the　rock。　Check　the　tapes　yourself　if　you　want。〃
　〃Was　there　anything　unusual　about　the　meteorite？〃　McFarlane　asked。　〃Anything　funny？〃
　Garza　thought　for　a　moment。　Then　he　shook　his　head。
　McFarlane　leaned　closer。　〃That　freak　wave　that　heeled　the　ship。　Do　you　think　tilting　the　meteorite　could　have　caused　the　explosion？〃
　〃Why？　It　was　tilted；　banged；　and　shoved　all　the　way　from　the　impact　site　to　the　holding　tank。　Nothing　like　this　happened。〃
　There　was　a　silence。
　〃It's　the　rock；〃　Garza　murmured。
　McFarlane　blinked；　not　sure　he　had　heard　correctly。
　〃What？〃　he　asked。
　〃I　said；　it's　the　goddamn　rock。　It　wants　us　dead。　All　of　us。〃
　And　with　that；　he　turned　toward　the　bulkhead　and　would　not　speak　again。
　
　Rolvaag；
　10：00　A。M。
　
　VIOLENT　dawn　rose　beyond　the　windows　of　the　bridge；　revealing　a　wind…torn　sea。　A　procession　of　gigantic　swells；　undulating；　remorseless；　came　out　of　the　storm…wracked　western　horizon　and　disappeared　into　the　east。　The　panteonero　continued　to　build；　a　screaming　wind　that　seemed　to　rip　pieces　of　sea　from　the　tops　of　the　waves　and　send　them　flying；　shredding　the　water　into　white　sheets　of　foam。　The　great　ship　heaved　up；　heaved　down；　rolling　and　pitching　in　agonizing　slow　motion。
　Eli　Glinn　stood　alone　at　the　windows；　hands　clasped　behind　his　back。　He　gazed　out　at　the　violence；　conscious　of　an　internal　serenity　he　had　rarely　felt　since