jefflong.yearzero-第28部分

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could　lie　dormant　through　extremes　of　heat　or　cold；　and　over　great　spans　of　time。。。then　suddenly　switch　itself　on。　But　it　could　just　as　well　have　been　a　prion；　which　was　an　even　less　lifelike　mechanism。
　Some　people；　credible　scientists；　thought　Corfu　might　have　evolved　from　the　same　pestilence　that　Moses　had　supposedly　called　down　upon　the　Egyptians。　Given　the　mutation　rate；　its　symptoms　might　have　changed　from　the　boils　described　in　the　Bible。　Other　scientists　scrutinized　the　terrible　plague　which　felled　Athens　in　the　fourth　centuryB　。C。E。　In　hisHistory　of　the　Jews；　Josephus　alluded　to；　but　had　not　detailed；　a　plague　in　the　century　before　Augustus　Caesar　came　to　rule。　Or　maybe　one　of　Alexander　the　Great's　soldiers　had　brought　it　home。　One　way　or　another；　the　contagion　must　have　traveled　along　some　land　or　sea　route　during　some　empire。
　The　bottom　line　was　that　the　Year　Zero　bones　from　Jerusalem　had　remained　mute。　They　had　yielded　not　one　clue。　But　now　Miranda　had　an　idea。
　〃The　call　is　out　for　Year　Zero　material　that　might　be　lying　around　in　private　collections　or　museums；〃　Miranda　explained　to　Golding。　〃But　chances　are　we're　not　going　to　get　anything　more　to　work　with。　So　I　thought；　why　not　make　the　bones　work　for　us？〃
　〃Go　on；〃　said　Golding。
　〃Clone　them。〃
　Golding　was　quiet　a　minute。　〃You　mean　to　bring　the　bones　back　to　life？〃
　〃I　know　it　sounds　crazy。〃
　〃Crazy　is　not　the　word；　Miranda。〃　Cloning　was　precisely　what　Golding　had　made　this　trip　to　stop。　Before　she　could　say　more；　Miranda　shot　ahead　with　her　notion。
　〃I've　found　a　way　to　ramp　up　the　DNA；〃　she　said。　〃It's　there。　It's　in　the　bones。　The　genetic　signature　of　probably　four　hundred　different　men　right　here　on　these　tables　and　shelves　and　in　these　drawers。　If　we　restored　them　to　life；　we　might　find　some　evidence　of　the　virus　in　its　original　state。〃
　〃It　would　never　work；〃　Golding　retorted。　She　needed　to　demolish　this　fancy；　first。　Then　she　would　drop　the　bigger　bomb。　A　moratorium　on　all　human　cloning　research。　People　needed　to　be　focused　on　the　basics；　not　fiddling　around　on　the　far　edges。　〃Even　if　you　could　clone　them；　the　virus　wouldn't　be　resurrected　inside　them。〃
　〃Not　the　virus；〃　said　Miranda。　〃Its　genetic　shadow。　The　genetic　scars　of　the　disease。〃
　〃The　antibody？〃
　〃Or　the　shadow　of　an　antibody。　It　might　lie　in　the　memory　T…cells。　If　any　of　these　men　were　a　survivor　of　the　disease；　his　cells　would　hold　a　permanent　memory　of　the　virus　structure。　It　would　bee　part　of　the　code；　to　defend　against　future　attacks。　Or　it　could　be　hidden　in　the　junk　DNA　somewhere；　zipped　inside　reverse　transcriptease　with　other　inert　viral　genomes。〃
　〃Shadows；〃　murmured　Golding。　She　was　not　pleased。　She　had　flown　all　this　way　to　lecture　Miranda；　to　grind　into　her　that　Thou　shalt　not　do　evil　in　order　to　do　good。　But　what　if　she　was　wrong？　〃I　don't　know　about　this；〃　she　said。　〃It　sounds　so　desperate。　Like　an　excuse。　A　fishing　expedition　in　the　dirt。〃
　〃I　was　thinking　more　along　the　lines　of　a　manned　probe　into　the　Year　Zero；〃　said　Miranda。　〃But　you're　right；　it　is　desperate。　We　have　to　try　everything；　don't　we？〃
　〃Everything？〃　said　Golding。　〃What　does　that　mean？〃
　〃Elise；　you're　so　pale。　e　over　here。　Sit　down。〃
　Golding　let　herself　be　guided。　She　sat。　Miranda　brought　her　a　paper　cup　of　water。　〃Your　heart？〃　she　asked。
　Golding　patted　Miranda's　hand。　〃I'm　just　tired。〃　But　it　seemed　the　world　kept　on　dropping　out　from　under　her　feet。
　
　8
　Asia
　
　WINTER
　North　from　Kathmandu　the　highway　lay　silenced。　Truck　and　bus　drivers　had　walked　away　from　their　stalled　vehicles。　Roadside　vendors　had　packed　up　their　sweets　and　cigarettes　and　Tiger　Balm。　Now　their　little　shanties　stood　empty。　Nathan　Lee　was　the　sole　traffic。　Going　up；　he　pushed　the　ponderous；　overloaded　mountain　bike。　Descending；　he　smelled　rubber　and　wished　for　extra　brake　pads。
　It　was　not　that　there　were　no　people。　Villagers　and　animals　meandered　antlike　on　the　terraced　hillsides。　Their　sounds　carried　through　the　valley　air；　the　blacksmith's　hammer；　cows　lowing；　the　temple　bell；　children's　laughter。　They　made　him　ache　for　a　place　and　people　of　his　own。　Nights　he　lay　on　the　dirt　by　his　bike　and　watched　the　distant　lights　of　candles　and　fires　wink　out。　One　afternoon；　he　looked　down　from　a　bend　and　spied　boys　playing　soccer　on　a　flat　section　of　the　road。　But　they　were　long　gone　by　his　arrival。
　In　his　role　as　cannibal　and　leper；　Nathan　Lee　had　e　to　take　loathing　for　granted。　This　was　different。　These　people　didn't　know　him　except　as　an　outsider　in　the　far　distance。　It　wasn't　his　reputation　that　frightened　them；　but　the　mere　approach　of　a　stranger。　He　had　never　known　Nepalis　to　act　that　way。
　He　held　on　to　his　theory　that　the　new　king　had　made　up　the　plague　to　scare　his　people　out　of　democracy　and　back　into　the　fourteenth　century。　It　wouldn't　be　the　first　time。　Pol　Pot　had　done　it　in　Cambodia；　Hoxha　in　Soviet　Albania；　bin　Laden　with　Islam。　The　fact　was　he　had　no　proof　either　way。　Mile　after　mile；　he　saw　no　sign　of　medical　clinics　or　health　workers。　He　saw　no　sick　people。　No　stacks　of　dead。　It　was　so　much　less　plicated　to　believe　the　plague　was　imaginary。
　Nearing　the　border；　Nathan　Lee　kept　anticipating　soldiers。　If　Nepal　had　locked　itself　in　feudal　antiquity；　then　someone　had　to　be　keeping　the　outside　world　at　bay。　While　he　pedaled；　he　worked　up　an　elaborate　story　to　bluff　his　way　through。　But　when　he　got　to　the　crossing；　there　was　not　a　sentry　in　sight；　even　on　the　Chinese　side。　He　simply　pedaled　across　the　bright　yellow　stripe　in　the　middle　of　the　Friendship　Bridge　and　exchanged　one　country　for　the　next。　First　an　imaginary　plague；　now　an　imaginary　border。
　The　river　thundered　below；　fed　by　Himalayan　snow。　Langur　monkeys　barked　and　sprang　through　green　rhododendron　forests　glued　to　the　gorge　walls。　A　large　red　flag　of　the　People's　Republic　hung　in　limp　tatters。　Nathan　Lee　didn't　like　the　looks　of　that。　It　was　one　thing　for　a　tiny　kingdom　to　fall　into　neglect。　But　a　whole　empire？　Maybe；　he　considered；　the　Bamboo　Curtain　had　fallen。　Maybe　China　was　fracturing　into　independent　states。　Maybe　they'd　given　Tibet　back　to　the　Dalai　Lama　for　his　dream　of　an　Asian　Switzerland。　The　French　woman's　word　came　back　to　him。　Shambala。
　A　mile　further　up　the　steep　road；　the　town　of　Tingri　perched　upon　a　mountainside。　As　he　pushed　his　bicycle　along　the　single；　winding　street；　there　was　not　a　movement　or　sound。　It　was　not　like　in　Nepal　where　windows　and　doors　were　tightly　shut　while　entire　villages　waited　for　him　to　pass　on。　There　you　could　smell　the　life。　Here　the　doors　and　shutters　flapped　open。　Tingri　didn't　smell　like　a　town。　It　smelled　like　a　cold　rock。　Not　a　soul　stirred。　Oddly；　that　gave　him　hope。　In　the　plague　chronicles　he'd　read；　from　Thucydides　to　Camus；　there　was　always　some　stubborn　old　woman　or　a　simpleton　or　blind　man　who　remained　behind。　With　his　mother　in　Africa；　he'd　passed　through　ghost　towns　ravaged　by　AIDS；　and　there　was　always　someone　left。
　The　door　to　the　customs　post　yawned　wide。　Inside　the　floor　was　littered　with　application　forms　that　had　blown　from　the　counter。　The　bureaucrats　had　been　in　such　a　rush　they'd　even　left　their　rubber　stamps。　On　a　whim；　Nathan　Lee　took　out　his　book　of　fairytales　and　stamped　a　Chinese　visa　on　a　blank　page。　Grace　would　like　that。
　He　looted　a　bit　and　found　a　pair　of　quilted　pants　to　go　with　the　Jagged　Edge　parka　he'd　stolen　from　a　trek　shop　in　Kathmandu。　Then　he　continued　upward　and　north。　The　air　poured　cold　through　the　shadows　of　the　gorge。　On　his　first　day　in　Tibet　he　more　than　doubled　his　altitude。
　Long　ago；　when　he　was　seventeen　years　old；　Nathan　Lee　had　taken　this　very　road　on　his　way　to　Everest　with　his　father。　Just　as　he　remembered；　the　dirt　road　was　carved　from　cliffsides　and　skirted　waterfalls。　But　rockslides　had　not　been　cleared　away　in　months。　Ominously；　certain　sections　looked　dynamited；　as　if　the　Chinese　were　trying　to　close　the　door　behind　them。　There　could　be　only　one　reason　they　would　do　such　a　thing。　His　high　hopes　faded。　Maybe　the　plague　was　real。
　His　progress　up　the　canyon　became　a　crawl。　The　larger　rockslides　forced　multiple　trips　back　and　forth　to　transfer　his　food；　gear；　and　bike。　The　rubble　shifted；　threatening　to　s