mreilly.icestation-第7部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


enshaw　who　drilled　deep　down　into　the　ice　looking　for　thousand…year…old　traces　of　carbon　monoxide　and　other　gases。　
　What　made　Wilkes　Ice　Station　something　special　was　that　two　days　before　Abby　Sinclair's　distress　signal　had　gone　out　another　high…priority　signal　had　been　sent　out　from　the　station：　This　earlier　signal；　sent　to　McMurdo；　had　been　a　formal　request　seeking　the　dispatch　to　Wilkes　of　a　squad　of　military　police。　
　Although　the　details　had　been　sketchy；　it　appeared　that　one　of　the　scientists　at　Wilkes　had　killed　one　of　his　colleagues。　
　Schofleld　stared　at　the　barred　door　at　the　end　of　the　ice　tunnel　and　shook　his　head。　He　really　didn't　have　time　for　this。　His　orders　had　been　very　specific：　
　Secure　the　station。　Investigate　the　spacecraft。　Verify　its　existence。　And　then　guard　it　against　all　parties　until　reinforcements　arrived。　
　Schofield　remembered　sitting　in　the　closed　briefing　room　on　board　the　Shreveport；　listening　to　the　voice　of　the　Undersecretary　of　Defense　on　the　speakerphone。　〃Other　parties　have　almost　certainly　picked　up　that　distress　signal；　Lieutenant。　If　there　really　is　an　extraterrestrial　vehicle　down　there；　there's　a　good　chance　one　of　those　parties　might　make　a　play　for　it。　The　United　States　Government　would　like　to　avoid　that　situation；　Lieutenant。　Your　objective　is　the　protection　of　the　spacecraft；　nothing　else。　I　repeat。　Your　objective　is　the　protection　of　the　spacecraft。　All　other　considerations　are　secondary。　We　want　that　ship。〃　
　Not　once　had　the　safety　of　the　American　scientists　at　the　station　been　mentioned；　a　fact　that　hadn't　gone　unnoticed　by　Schofield。　It　obviously　hadn't　slipped　past　Sarah　Hensleigh　either。　
　All　other　considerations　are　secondary。　
　In　any　case；　Schofield　thought；　he　couldn't　afford　to　send　any　divers　down　to　investigate　the　spacecraft　while　there　existed　the　possibility　that　one　of　the　residents　of　Wilkes　might　be　a　source　of　trouble。　
　〃All　right；〃　he　said；　looking　at　the　door　but　addressing　Hensleigh。　〃Twenty…five　words　or　less。　What's　his　story？〃　
　Sarah　Hensleigh　said；　〃Renshaw　is　a　geophysicist　from　Stanford；　studying　ice　cores　for　his　Ph。D。　Bernie　Olson　is…　was…his　supervisor。　Renshaw's　work　with　ice　cores　was　groundbreaking。　He　was　digging　core　holes　deeper　than　anybody　had　ever　dug　before；　at　times　going　nearly　a　kilometer　below　the　surface。〃　
　Schofield　vaguely　knew　about　ice　core　research。　It　involved　drilling　a　circular　hole　about　thirty　centimeters　wide　down　into　the　ice　shelf　and　pulling　out　a　cylinder　of　ice　known　as　a　core。　Held　captive　within　the　core　were　pockets　of　gases　that　had　existed　in　the　air　thousands　of　years　before。　
　〃Anyway；〃　Sarah　said；　〃a　couple　of　weeks　ago；　Renshaw　hit　the　big　time。　His　drill　must　have　hit　a　layer　of　upsurged　ice…prehistoric　ice　that　has　been　dislodged　by　an　earthquake　sometime　in　the　past　and　pushed　up　toward　the　surface。　Suddenly　Renshaw　was　studying　pockets　of　air　that　were　as　much　as　three　hundred　million　years　old。　It　was　the　discovery　of　a　lifetime。　Here　was　a　chance　to　study　an　atmosphere　that　no　one　has　ever　known。　To　see　what　the　earth's　atmosphere　was　like　before　the　dinosaurs。〃　Sarah　Hensleigh　shrugged。　〃For　an　academic；　something　tike　that　is　like　the　pot　of　gold　at　the　end　of　the　rainbow。　It's　worth　a　fortune　on　the　lecture　circuit　alone。　
　〃Only　then　it　got　better。　
　〃A　few　days　ago；　Renshaw　adjusted　his　drilling　vector　slightly…that's　the　angle　at　which　you　drill　down　into　the　ice…and　at　1500　feet；　in　the　middle　of　a　four…hundred…million…year…old　section　of　ice；　he　hit　metal。〃　
　Sarah　paused；　allowing　what　she　had　just　said　to　sink　in。　Schofield　said　nothing。　
　Sarah　said；　〃We　sent　the　diving　bell　down；　did　some　sonic…resonance　tests　of　the　ice　shelf；　and　discovered　that　there　was　a　cavern　of　some　sort　right　where　this　piece　of　prehistoric　metal　was　supposed　to　be。　Further　tests　showed　that　there　was　a　tunnel　leading　up　to　this　cavern　from　a　depth　of　3；000　feet。　That　was　when　we　sent　the　divers　down；　and　that　was　when　Austin　saw　the　spacecraft。　And　that　was　when　all　the　divers　disappeared。〃　
　Schofield　said；　〃So　what　does　all　this　have　to　do　with　Bernard　Olson's　death？〃　
　Sarah　said；　〃Olson　was　Renshaw's　supervisor。　He　was　always　looking　over　Renshaw's　shoulder　while　Renshaw　was　making　these　amazing　discoveries。　Renshaw　started　to　get　paranoid。　He　started　saying　that　Bernie　was　stealing　his　research。　That　Bernie　was　using　his　findings　to　write　a　quick…fire　article　himself　and　beat　Renshaw　to　the　punch。　
　〃You　see；　Bernie　had　connections　with　the　journals；　knew　some　editors。　He　could　get　an　article　out　within　a　month　Renshaw；　as　an　unknown　Ph。D。　student；　would　almost　certainly　take　longer。　He　thought　Bernie　was　trying　to　steal　his　pot　of　gold。　And　then　when　Renshaw　discovered　metal　down　in　the　cavern　and　he　saw　that　Bernie　was　going　to　include　that　in　his　article；　too；　he　flipped。〃　
　〃And　he　killed　him？〃　
　〃He　killed　him。　Last　Friday　night。　Renshaw　just　went　to　Bernie's　room　and　started　yelling　at　him。　We　all　heard　it。　Renshaw　was　angry　and　upset；　but　we'd　heard　it　all　before　so　we　didn't　think　much　of　it。　But　this　time；　he　killed　him。〃　
　〃How？〃　Schofield　continued　to　stare　at　the　locked　door。　
　〃He…〃　Sarah　hesitated。　〃He　jabbed　Bernie　in　the　neck　with　a　hypodermic　needle　and　injected　the　contents。〃　
　〃What　was　in　the　syringe？〃　
　〃Industrial…strength　drain…cleaning　fluid。〃　
　〃Charming；〃　Schofield　said。　He　nodded　at　the　door。　〃He's　in　here？〃　
　Sarah　said；　〃He　locked　himself　in　after　it　happened。　Took　a　week's　worth　of　food　in　with　him　and　said　that　if　any　of　us　tried　to　go　in　there　after　him　he'd　kill　us；　too。　It　was　terrifying。　He　was　crazy。　So　one　night…the　night　before　we　sent　the　divers　down　to　investigate　the　cave…the　rest　of　us　got　together　and　bolted　the　door　shut　from　the　outside。　Ben　Austin　fixed　some　runners　to　the　wall　on　either　side　of　the　door　while　the　rest　of　us　slid　the　beam　into　place。　Then　Austin　used　a　rivet　gun　to　seal　the　door　shut。〃　
　Schofield　said；　〃Is　he　still　alive？〃　
　〃Yes。　You　can't　hear　him　now；　which　means　he's　probably　asleep。　But　when　he's　awake；　believe　me；　you'll　know　it。〃　
　〃Uh…huh。〃　Schofield　examined　the　edges　of　the　door；　saw　the　rivets　holding　it　to　the　frame。　〃Your　friend　did　a　good　job　with　the　door。〃　He　turned　around。　〃If　he's　locked　inside。　That's　good　enough　for　me；　if　you're　sure　there's　no　other　way　out　of　that　room。〃　
　〃This　is　the　only　entrance。〃　
　〃Yeah；　but　is　there　any　other　way　out　of　the　room？　Could　he　dig　his　way　out；　say；　through　the　walls；　or　the　ceiling？〃　
　〃The　ceilings　and　the　floors　are　steel…lined；　so　he　can't　dig　through　them。　And　his　room's　at　the　end　of　the　corridor；　so　there　aren't　any　rooms　on　either　side　of　it…the　walls　are　solid　ice；〃　Sarah　Hensleigh　gave　Schofield　a　crooked　smile。　〃I　don't　think　there's　any　way　out　of　there。〃　
　〃Then　we　leave　him　in　there；〃　Schofield　said　as　he　started　walking　back　down　the　ice　tunnel。　〃We've　got　other　things　to　worry　about。　The　first　of　which　is　finding　out　what　happened　to　your　divers　down　in　that　cave。〃　
　
　
　
　The　sun　shone　brightly　over　Washington；　D。C。　The　Capitol　practically　glowed　white　against　the　magnificent　blue　sky。　
　In　a　lavish　red…carpeted　corner　of　the　Capitol　Building；　the　meeting　broke　for　recess。　Folders　were　closed。　Chairs　were　pushed　back。　Some　of　the　delegates　took　off　their　reading　glasses　and　rubbed　their　eyes。　As　soon　as　the　recess　was　called；　small　clusters　of　aides　immediately　rushed　forward　to　their　bosses'　sides　with　cellular　phones；　folders；　and　faxes。　
　〃What　are　they　up　to？〃　the　U。S。　Permanent　Representative；　George　Holmes；　said　to　his　aide　as　he　watched　the　entire　French　delegation…all　twelve　of　them…leave　the　negotiating　room。　〃That's　the　fourth　time　they've　called　a　recess　today。〃　
　Holmes　watched　France's　Chef　de　Mission…a　pompous；　snobbish　man　named　Pierre　Dufresne…leave　the　room　at　the　head　of　his　group。　He　shook　his　head　in　wonder。　
　George　Holmes　was　a　diplomat；　had　been　all　his　life。　He　was　fifty…five；　short；　and；　though　he　hated　to　admit　it；　a　little　overweight。　
　Holmes　had　a　round；　moonlike　face　and　a　horseshoe　of　graying　hair；　and　he　wore　thick　horn…rimmed　glasses　that　made　his　brown　eyes　appear　larger　than　they　really　were。　
　He　stood　up　and　stretched　his　legs；　looked　around　at　the　enormous　meeting　room。　A　huge　circular　table　stood　in　the　center　of　the　room；　with　sixteen　fortable　leather　chairs　placed　at　equal　distances　around　its　circumference。　
　The　occasion；　the　reaffirmation　of　an　alliance。　
　International　alliances　are　not　exactly　the　friendly　affairs　the　TV　news　makes　them　out　to　be。　When　Presidents　and　Prime　Ministers　emerge　from　the　White　House　and　shake　hands　for　the　cameras　in　front　of　their　interlocking　flags；　they　belie　the　deal　making；　the　promise　breaking；　the　nit…picking；　and　the　catfighting　that　go　on　in　rooms　not　unlike　the　one　in　which　George　Holmes　now　stood。　The　smiles　and　the　handshakes　are　merely　the　icing　on　very　plex；　negotiated　cakes　that　are　made　by　professional　diplomats　like　Holmes。　
　International　alliances　are　not　about　friendship。　They　are　about　advantage。　If　friendship　brings　advantage；　then　friendship　is　desirable。　If　friendship　does　not　bring　advanta