pdouglas.thecodex-第47部分

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a　dream；　he　realized；　long　and　strange；　and　he　was　going　to　wake　up　in　his　own　bed；　a　little　boy　again；　his　father　shouting　upstairs；　〃Good　morning；　good　morning；　another　day　is　dorning！〃
　Thinking　this；　he　drifted　into　oblivion；　happy。
　
　46
　
　Marcus　Hauser　sat　on　a　campstool　in　the　doorway　of　the　ruined　temple；　taking　in　the　morning。　A　toucan　screeched　and　hopped　around　in　a　nearby　tree；　waggling　its　enormous　beak。　It　was　a　glorious　day；　the　sky　a　limpid　blue；　the　jungle　a　hushed　green。　It　was　cooler　and　drier　up　in　these　mountains；　and　the　air　seemed　fresher。　The　perfume　of　an　unknown　flower　drifted　past。　Hauser　felt　a　semblance　of　peace　returning。　It　had　been　a　long　night；　and　he　felt　drained；　empty；　and　disappointed。
　He　heard　footsteps　rustling　the　fallen　leaves。　One　of　the　soldiers　brought　him　his　breakfast…bacon；　eggs；　coffee；　fried　plantain…on　an　enamel　plate　with　a　sprig　of　some　herb　garnishing　the　side。　He　took　the　dish　on　his　knees。　The　garnish　irritated　him；　so　he　flicked　it　off；　then　picked　up　his　fork　and　began　to　eat；　his　mind　on　the　events　of　the　previous　night。　It　had　been　time　to　force　the　issue　with　the　chief　or　fail。　Not　ten　minutes　into　it　he　knew　the　old　chief　wouldn't　crack；　but　he　went　through　the　motions　anyway。　It　was　like　watching　a　pornographic　film…unable　to　turn　it　off；　yet　in　the　end　cursing　the　waste　of　time　and　energy。　He　had　tried。　He　had　done　his　best。　Now　he　had　to　think　of　another　solution　to　his　problem。
　Two　soldiers　appeared　in　the　doorway；　the　body　slung　between　them。　〃What　should　we　do　with　it；　jeje？〃
　Hauser　pointed　with　his　fork；　his　mouth　full　of　eggs。　〃Into　the　gorge。〃
　They　went　out；　and　he　finished　his　breakfast。　The　White　City　was　a　big；　overgrown　place。　Max　could　be　buried　almost　anywhere。　Problem　was；　the　village　was　so　stirred　up　that　there　wasn't　much　chance　of　taking　another　hostage　and　trying　to　squeeze　the　location　of　the　tomb　out　of　him。　On　the　other　hand；　he　didn't　relish　poking　around　these　rat…infested　ruins　for　the　next　two　weeks　himself。
　He　broke　off；　felt　in　his　pockets；　and　slipped　out　a　slender　aluminum　tube。　In　a　minute　the　ritual　was　plete　and　the　cigar　was　lit。　He　inhaled　deeply；　feeling　the　calming　effects　of　the　nicotine　spreading　from　his　lungs　to　his　body。　All　problems　could　be　broken　down　into　options　and　suboptions。　There　were　two：　He　could　find　the　tomb　on　his　own；　or　he　could　let　someone　else　find　it　for　him。　If　he　let　someone　else　find　it；　who　might　that　person　be？
　〃Teniente？〃
　The　lieutenant；　who　had　been　waiting　outside　for　his　morning's　orders；　came　in　and　saluted。　〃Si；　se？or？〃
　〃I　want　you　to　send　a　man　back　over　the　trail　and　check　on　the　status　of　the　Broadbent　brothers。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃Do　not　molest　them　or　allow　them　to　know　of　your　presence。　I　want　to　know　what　state　they're　in；　whether　they're　still　ing　or　have　turned　around…as　much　as　you　can　find　out。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃We're　going　to　start　on　the　pyramid　this　morning。　We'll　open　this　end　with　dynamite；　working　into　it　as　we　go。　Organize　the　explosives　and　men　and　have　them　ready　in　an　hour。〃　He　put　his　plate　on　the　ground　and　rose；　shouldering　his　Steyr　AUG。　He　stepped　out　into　the　sunlight；　looking　up　at　the　pyramid；　already　calculating　where　to　set　the　charges。　Whether　he　found　Max　in　the　pyramid　or　not；　at　least　it　would　keep　the　soldiers　busy…and　entertained。　Everyone　liked　a　big　explosion。
　Sunlight。　It　was　the　first　he　had　seen　in　two　weeks。　It　would　be　pleasant　to　work　in　the　sunlight　for　a　change。
　
　47
　
　Death　came　for　Tom　Broadbent；　but　not　cloaked　in　black　carrying　a　y　scythe。　It　came　in　the　form　of　a　hideous　savage　face；　striped　in　red　and　yellow；　bristling　with　green　feathers；　with　green　eyes　and　black　hair　and　pointed　white　teeth；　peering　down　into　his　face　and　poking　him　with　his　fingers。　But　the　death　that　Tom　expected　did　not　e。　Instead；　the　terrifying　figure　forced　some　hot　liquid　down　his　throat；　and　forced　it　again。　He　struggled　feebly　and　then　accepted　it　and　fell　asleep。
　He　woke　with　a　dry　feeling　in　his　throat　and　a　throbbing　headache。　He　was　in　a　thatched　hut　in　a　dry　hammock。　He　was　dressed　in　a　fresh　T…shirt　and　shorts。　The　sun　was　shining　outside　the　hut；　and　the　jungle　burbled　with　sounds。　For　a　long　moment　he　couldn't　even　remember　who　he　was　or　what　he　was　doing　there；　and　then　it　came　back；　piece　by　piece：　the　father's　disappearance；　the　strange　will；　their　journey　upriver；　Don　Alfonso's　jokes　and　sayings；　their　little　clearing　with　the　view　of　the　Sierra　Azul；　dying　under　the　rotten　log　in　the　rain。
　It　all　seemed　to　have　happened　so　long　ago。　He　felt　renewed；　reborn；　as　weak　as　a　baby。
　He　gingerly　lifted　his　head　up；　raising　it　only　as　much　as　his　hammering　headache　would　allow。　The　hammock　next　to　his　was　empty。　He　felt　his　heart　lurch。　Who　had　been　in　that　hammock？　Sally？　Vernon？　Who　had　died？
　〃Hello？〃　he　asked　feebly；　trying　to　sit　up。　〃Anybody　here？〃
　He　heard　a　sound　outside　and　then　Sally　came　in；　lifting　up　the　flap。　She　was　like　a　sudden　eruption　of　gold。　〃Tom！　I'm　so　glad　you're　feeling　better。〃
　〃Oh；　Sally；　I　saw　that　empty　hammock　and　I　thought　。。。〃
　Sally　came　over　and　took　his　hand。　〃We're　all　still　here。〃
　〃Philip？〃
　〃Still　sick；　but　much　better。　Vernon　should　be　better　tomorrow。〃
　〃What　happened？　Where　are　we？〃
　〃We're　still　in　the　same　place。　You　can　thank　Borabay　when　he　es　back。　He　went　out　hunting。〃
　〃Borabay？〃
　〃A　mountain　Indian。　He　found　us　and　saved　us。　He　nursed　us　all　back　to　health。〃
　〃Why？〃
　〃I　don't　know。〃
　〃How　long　was　I　sick？〃
　〃We　were　all　sick　about　a　week。　We've　had　a　fever　he　calls　bisi。　He's　a　curandero。　Not　like　me；　but　a　real　curandero。　He　gave　us　medicine；　fed　us；　saved　our　lives。　He　even　speaks　a　funny　kind　of　English。〃
　Tom　tried　to　sit　up。
　〃Not　yet。〃　She　eased　him　back　down。　〃Drink　some　of　this。〃
　She　handed　him　a　cup　filled　with　a　sweet　beverage。　He　drank　it　down　and　felt　his　hunger　intensify。　〃I　smell　something　cooking　that　is　positively　delicious。〃
　〃Turtle　stew　à　la　Borabay。　I'll　bring　you　some。〃　She　laid　her　hand　on　his　cheek。
　He　looked　up　at　her；　remembering　everything　now。
　She　leaned　over　and　gave　him　a　kiss。　〃We've　still　got　a　long　way　to　go　before　this　is　over。〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Let's　take　it　one　step　at　a　time。〃
　He　nodded。　She　brought　him　some　turtle　soup；　Tom　ate　it　and　then　fell　soundly　asleep。　When　he　woke；　his　headache　was　gone　and　he　was　able　to　get　out　of　his　hammock　and　walk　shakily　out　of　the　hut。　His　legs　felt　like　rubber。　They　were　in　the　same　clearing　with　the　same　fallen　tree；　but　it　had　been　transformed　from　a　dank　thicket　into　a　cheerful；　open　camp。　The　ferns　had　been　cut　and　used　to　pave　the　muddy　ground；　forming　a　pleasant；　springy　carpet。　There　were　two　neat　palm…thatch　huts　and　a　fire　ring　with　logs　for　seats。　The　sun　was　streaming　down　through　the　hole　in　the　treetops。　The　Sierra　Azul　loomed　in　the　gap；　deep　purple　against　the　blue　sky。　Sally　was　sitting　next　to　the　fire；　and　when　he　came　out　she　leapt　to　her　feet　and　took　his　arm；　helping　him　sit　down。
　〃What　time　is　it？〃
　〃Ten　o'clock　in　the　morning；〃　said　Sally。
　〃How's　Philip？〃
　〃He's　resting　in　his　hammock。　He's　still　weak；　but　he'll　be　fine。　Vernon's　sleeping　off　the　last　stage　of　the　fever。　Eat　some　more　stew。
　Borabay　has　been　lecturing　us　that　we　have　to　eat　as　much　food　as　we　can。
　〃Where　is　this　mysterious　Borabay？〃
　〃Hunting。〃
　Tom　ate　some　more　turtle　stew；　there　was　a　huge　pot　of　it　bubbling　on　the　fire；　filled　not　only　with　chunks　of　meat　but　also　with　a　variety　of　strange　roots　and　vegetables。　When　he　was　done　he　went　to　the　other　hut　to　see　Philip。　He　pulled　open　the　palm…thatch　door；　bent　over；　and　stepped　inside。
　Philip　lay　in　his　hammock；　smoking。　He　was　still　shockingly　thin；　but　the　sores　had　turned　to　scabs　and　his　eyes　no　longer　looked　hollow。
　〃Glad　to　see　you　up　and　about；　Tom；〃　he　said。
　〃How　are　you　feeling？〃
　〃A　little　weak　in　the　knees　but　otherwise　chipper。　Feet　are　almost　healed。　I'll　be　walking　in　a　day　or　two。〃
　〃Have　you　met　this　fellow；　Borabay？〃
　〃Oh　yes。　Queer　chap；　all　painted　up；　disks　in　his　ears；　tattoos；　the　works。　Sally　would　have　put　him　up　for　canonization　except　I　somehow　doubt　he's　Catholic。〃
　〃You　look　like　a　new　man；　Philip。〃
　〃So　do　you；　Tom。〃
　There　was　an　awkward　silence；　interrupted　by　a　shout　from　outside。　〃Hallo！　Brothers！〃
　〃Ah；　Borabay's　back；〃　said　Philip。
　Tom　ducked　out　of　the　hut　and　saw　the　most　amazing　little　Indian　walking　across　the　meadow。　His　upper　body　and　face　were　painted　red；　with　a　circle　of　black　around　the　eyes　and　ferocious　yellow　stripes　painted　diagonally　across　his　chest。　Feathers　bristled　from　bands　on　his　upper　arms；　and　he　was　naked　except　for　a　breechclout。　Two　enormous　plugs　were　inserted　into　stretched…out　earlobes；　which　waggled　with　each　step。　An　intricate　pattern　of　scars　ran　across　his　belly；　and　his　front　teeth　had　been　filed　to　points。　He　had　black　hair；　cut　off　straight；　and　his　eyes　were　a　most　unusual　hazel　color；　almost　green。　The　face　was　strikingly　handsome　and　finely　cut；　the　skin　smooth　and　sculptural。
　He　stepped　to　the　fire；　small　and　dignified；　holding　a　seven…foot　blowgun　in　one　hand　and　a　dead　animal…species