alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第16部分

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　〃Calm　yourself；　calm　yourself。〃　Zagero　patted　his　shoulder。　〃Merely　goin'　in　a　supervisory　capacity；　Solly。　How　about　it；　Doc？〃
　
　〃Thanks。　You　want　to　e；　Mr　Corazzini？〃　I　could　see　he　was　already　struggling　into　a　parka。
　
　〃I'd　be　glad　to。　Can't　sit　here　all　day。〃
　
　〃These　cuts　on　your　head　and　hands　aren't　sealed　yet。　They'll　sting　like　the　devil　when　you　get　out　into　this　cold。〃
　
　〃Got　to　get　used　to　it；　haven't　I？　Lead　the　way。〃
　
　The　airliner；　crouching　in　the　snow　like　some　great　wounded　bird；　was　faintly　visible　in　the　twilight　now；　seven　or　eight　hundred　yards　away　to　the　north…east；　port　wing…tip　facing　us；　lying　at　exactly　right　angles　to　our　line　of　sight。　There　was　no　saying　how　often　we　might　have　to　go　out　there；　the　quasi　daylight　would　be　gone　in　another　hour　or　so；　and　it　seemed　pointless　to　follow　in　darkness　the　zigzag　route　we　had　been　pelled　to　make　the　previous　night；　so　with　help　from　Zagero　and　Corazzini　I　staked　out　a　route；　with　bamboo　markers　about　five　yards　apart；　straight　out　to　the　plane。　Some　of　the　bamboos　I　fetched　from　the　tunnel；　but　most　of　them　were　transplanted　from　the　positions　where　they　had　been　stuck　the　previous　night。
　
　Inside　the　plane　itself　it　was　as　cold　as　the　tomb　and　as　dark　as　the　tomb。　One　side　of　the　plane　was　already　thickly　sheeted　in　drift　ice；　and　all　the　windows　were　pletely　blanked　off；　made　opaque；　by　rime　frost。　In　the　light　of　a　couple　of　torches　we　ourselves　moved　around　like　spectres；　our　heads　enveloped　in　the　clouds　of　our　frozen　breath；　clouds　that　remained　hanging　almost　stationary　above　our　heads。　In　the　silence　we　could　faintly　hear　the　crackling　of　our　breath　in　the　super…chilled　air；　followed　by　the　curious　wheezing　noise　that　men　make　in　very　low　temperatures　when　they　were　trying　not　to　breathe　too　deeply。
　
　〃God；　this　is　a　ghastly　place；〃　Zagero　said。　He　shivered；　whether　or　not　from　cold　it　was　impossible　to　say；　and　flashed　his　torch　at　the　dead　man　sitting　in　the　back　seat。　〃Are　we…are　we　going　to　leave　them　there；　Doc？〃
　
　〃Leave　them？〃　I　dumped　a　couple　of　attache…cases　on　to　the　pile　we　were　making　in　the　front　seat。　〃What　on　earth　do　you　mean？〃
　
　I　don't　know；　I　thought…well；　we　buried　the　second　officer　this　morning；　and…〃Bury　them？　The　ice…cap　will　bury　them　soon　enough。　In　six　months'　time　this　plane　will　have　drifted　over　and　be　vanished　for　ever。　But　I　agree…let's　get　out　of　here。　Give　anyone　the　creeps。〃
　
　As　I　made　my　way　to　the　front　I　saw　Corazzini；　a　doleful　look　on　his　face；　shaking　an　ebonite　and　metal　portable　radio　and　listening　to　the　rattling　that　came　from　inside。
　
　〃Another　casualty？〃　I　inquired。
　
　〃Afraid　so。〃　He　twiddled　some　dials；　without　result。　〃Battery　and　mains　model。　A　goner；　Doc。　Valves；　I　expect。　Still；　I'll　tote　it　along…cost　me　two　hundred　dollars　two　days　ago。〃
　
　Two　hundred？〃　I　whistled。　〃You　should　have　bought　two。　Maybe　Joss　can　give　you　some　valves。　He's　got　dozens　of　spares。〃
　
　〃No　good。〃　Corazzini　shook　his　head。　〃Latest　transistor　model…that's　why　it　was　so　damn'　expensive。〃
　
　〃Take　it　with　you；〃　I　advised。　〃It'll　only　cost　you　another　two　hundred　to　get　it　repaired　in　Glasgow。　Listen；　there's　Jackstraw　now。〃
　
　We　could　hear　the　barking　of　dogs；　and　we　lost　no　time　in　lowering　the　odds　and　ends　down　to　Jackstraw　who　loaded　them　on　the　sledge。　In　the　forward　hold　we　found　about　twenty…five　suitcases　of　various　sizes。　We　had　to　make　two　trips　to　bring　all　the　stuff　back；　and　on　the　second　trip　the　rising　wind　was　in　our　faces；　already　lifting　the　drift　off　the　ice…cap。　The　climate　on　the　Greenland　plateau　is　one　of　the　most　unstable　in　the　world；　and　the　wind；　which　had　all　but　stopped　for　a　few　hours；　had　now　veered　suddenly　to　the　south。　I　didn't　know　what　it　presaged；　but　I　suspected　it　wasn't　anything　good。
　
　We　were　all　chilled　to　the　bone　by　the　time　the　luggage　had　been　lowered　down　into　the　cabin；　and　Corazzini　looked　at　me；　his　eyes　sober　and　speculative。　He　was　shaking　with　cold；　and　his　nose　and　one　of　his　cheeks　were　white　with　frostbite；　and　when　he　pulled　off　one　of　his　gloves　the　hand；　too；　Was　limp　and　white　and　dead。
　
　〃Is　this　what　it's　like　to　be　exposed　to　this　stuff　for　half　an　hour；　Dr　Mason？〃
　
　〃I'm　afraid　it　is。〃
　
　〃And　we're　to　be　out　in　this　for　maybe　seven　days　and　seven　nights！　Good　God；　man；　we'll　never　make　it！　And　the　women；　old　Miss　LeGarde；　and　Brewster　and　Mahler；　they're　no　chickens　either…〃　He　broke　off；　wincing…and　I　was　beginning　to　suspect　that　it　would　take　a　great　deal　to　make　this　man　wince…　as　the　circulation　returned　under　the　influence　of　vigorous　rubbing。　〃It's　nothing　short　of　suicide。〃
　
　〃It's　a　gamble；〃　I　corrected。　〃Staying　here　and　starving　to　death　is　suicide。〃
　
　〃You　put　the　alternative　so　nicely。〃　He　smiled　a　smile　that　never　touched　the　cold　and　determined　eyes。　〃But　I　guess　you're　right　at　that。〃
　
　Lunch　that　day　was　a　bowl　of　soup　and　crackers；　poor　fare　at　any　time；　shockingly　insufficient　to　stay　and　warm　men　who　would　have　to　work　for　the　next　few　hours　in　these　bitter　sub…zero　temperatures　above。　But　there　was　no　help　for　it：　if　it　would　take　us　a　week　to　reach　the　coast；　and　in　all　optimism　I　couldn't　count　on　less；　rationing　would　have　to　start　now。
　
　In　a　matter　of　a　couple　of　hours　the　thermometer　reading　had　risen　with　astonishing　speed…these　dramatic　temperature　variations　were　monplace　on　the　ice…cap…and　it　was　beginning　to　snow　when　we　emerged　from　the　hatch　and　moved　across　to　where　the　tractor　lay。　The　rise　in　temperature　flattered　only　to　deceive：　the　south　wind　brought　with　it　not　only　snow　but　a　rapidly　climbing　humidity；　and　the　air　was　almost　unbearably　chill。
　
　We　ripped　off　the　covering　tarpaulin…it　cracked　and　tore　but　I　was　no　longer　concerned　with　preserving　it…and　our　guests　saw　for　the　first　time　the　vehicle　upon　which　all　their　lives　were　to　depend。　Slowly　I　played　my　torch　over　it…the　dark　shroud　of　the　arctic　night　had　already　fallen　across　the　ice…cap…and　I　heard　the　quick　indrawn　hiss　of　breath　beside　me。
　
　〃Drove　it　out　when　the　museum　attendant　wasn't　looking；　I　suppose。〃　Corazzini　kept　his　voice　carefully　expressionless。　〃Or　did　you　just　find　it　here…left　over　from　the　last　ice…age？〃
　
　〃It　is　a　bit　old；〃　I　admitted。　〃Pre…war。　But　all　we　can　afford。　The　British　Government　isn't　quite　so　lavish　with　its　IGY　expenditure　as　the　Russians　and　your　people。　Know　it？　It's　the　prototype；　the　ancestor　of　the　modern　arctic　tractor。〃
　
　〃Never　seen　it　before。　What　is　it？〃
　
　〃French。　A　10…20　Citroen。　Underpowered；　narrow…tracked　as　you　can　see；　and　far　too　short　for　its　weight。　Lethal　in　crevasse　country。　Plods　along　fairly　well　on　the　frozen　ice…cap；　but　you'd　be　better　with　a　bicycle　when　there's　any　depth　at　all　of　new…fallen　snow。　But　it's　all　we　have。〃
　
　Corazzini　said　no　more。　As　the　managing　director　of　a　factory　producing　some　of　the　finest　tractors　in　the　world；　I　suppose　his　heart　was　too　full　to　say　any　more。　But　his　disappointment　made　no　difference　to　his　drive；　his　sheer　unflagging　determination。　For　the　next　few　hours　he　worked　like　a　demon。　So；　too；　did　Zagero。
　
　Less　than　five　minutes　after　we　had　started　work　we　had　to　stop　again　to　rig　up　a　canvas　screen；　lashed　to　aluminium　poles　brought　up　from　the　runnel；　round　three　sides　of　the　tractor：　work　had　been　impossible　in　that　snow　and　knife…like　wind　that　lanced　through　even　the　bulkiest　layers　of　clothing…and　most　of　them　were　now　wearing　so　many　that　they　could　move　only　with　difficulty…as　if　they　were　tissue　paper。　Behind　this　screen　we　placed　a　portable　oil　stove…the　very　illusion　of　warmth　was　better　than　nothing…two　storm　lanterns　and　the　blow…torches　without　which　we　could　have　made　no　progress　at　all。　Even　with　this　shelter；　practically　everyone　had　to　go　below　from　time　to　time　to　rub　and　pound　life　back　into　his　freezing　body：　only　Jackstraw　and　I；　in　our　caribou　furs；　could　stay　up　almost　indefinitely。　Joss　was　below　all　the　afternoon：　after　spending　a　couple　of　hours　trying　to　raise　our　field　party　on　the　tractor's　emergency　radio　he　gave　up　and　went　doggedly　back　to　work　on　the　RCA。
　
　Our　first　job；　the　removal　of　the　hoped　canvas　hood；　gave　us　some　measure　of　the　difficulty　of　the　task　that　lay　before　us。　The　hood　was　secured　by　only　seven　bolts　and　nuts；　but　these　had　been　in　position　for　over　four　months　now；　were　frozen　solid　and　took　over　an　hour　to　remove：　each　set　had　to　be　thawed　out　separately　by　blow…torch　before　the　heavy　wrenches　could　get　the　nuts　to　turn。
　
　Then　came　the　assembly　of　the　wooden　body。　This　was　in　fifteen　prefabricated　pieces；　three　each　for　the　floor；　sides；　roof　and　front…the　back　was　only　a　canvas　screen。　Each　set　of　three　pieces　had　to　be　brought　out　singly　through　the　narrow　hatchway　before　assembly；　and　it　was　the　devil's　own　job；　in　that　numbing　cold　and　flickering　semi…darkness；　to　locate　and　line　up　the　bolt…holes　in　the　wood　with　the　matching　holes　in　the　connecting　iron　cross…pieces。　It　took　us　well　over　an　hour　to　assemble　and　fit　the　floor　section　alone；　and　it　was　beginning　to　look　as　if　we　would　be　here　until　midnight　when　Corazzini　had　the　idea…and　a　brill