jefflong.yearzero-第42部分
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A fine drizzle began。 The two Marines put on ponchos。 Nathan Lee seated hisYosemite: The West Is Best cap with neck flaps tighter on his head。 He led them to the Natural History Museum; which housed the anthropology collection and offices; but it was boarded shut。 The workmen had even sealed the edges with epoxy。 It would take power tools to cut one's way inside。
〃I thought you said this was the place;〃 said one of the Marines。
〃They told me the Smithsonian;〃 Nathan Lee blustered。 〃It has twelve different museums。 I presumed。。。。〃
〃e on; man; it's raining。〃
Across the meadow; the Castle loomed; its red sandstone towers and spires swathed in ivy。 This was the original building; its odd; Norman architecture inspired by Sir Walter Scott novels。 A wet American flag hung atop the central tower。 〃There;〃 he said; 〃that must be the one。〃
As they crossed to the Castle; he tried to entertain the souring Marines。 〃Abraham Lincoln once surveyed the city's defenses from that tower;〃 he said。 They weren't in the mood。 He threw out more trivia; wetter by the step。
Things did not look promising。 From the steps to the high arch; the front doors were barricaded with masonry blocks。 The windows were dark blanks; boarded over from the inside。 The mighty fortress of collections and knowledge had bee a haunted house。
They circled the building pletely。 Little markers at the base of the walls identified each different climbing vine。 Back at the front entrance; they came to halt。 The sunlight was fading fast。 The rain cut harder; rattling against their ponchos。 Nathan Lee was drenched; not a convincing picture。
〃You don't really belong here; do you?〃 one of the Marines said。 〃Let's see your paperwork。 Orders。 A letter of authorization。〃
Nathan Lee's bluff was crumbling。 Somewhere inside these buildings were clues about where Ochs had gone; he was certain of it。 〃I told you。 It was verbal。 They sent a messenger。〃
〃They? I don't see anyone; sir。 Where's your blood book?〃
With growing alarm; Nathan Lee handed it over; and the soldier didn't look at it。 They were confiscating his blood book! He thought of running; but even if they didn't shoot him; he would be trapped without his passport。
At that moment; a metal door creaked open on the fire escape two stories overhead。 An old man appeared on the small grated deck。 Calmly smoking a pipe in the rain; scanning the far distances; he didn't notice them at first。 He stood there; pale and delicate; like an ancient submariner getting a breath of fresh air。
Unbelievably; Nathan Lee thought he recognized the ghost。 〃Spencer?〃 he said。 〃Spencer Baird?〃 He was…or had been…a paleontologist。 He had to be ninety。
The old man looked down at them。 〃Who goes there?〃
〃Do you know this man; sir?〃 a Marine called up to him。
〃Spencer; it's me;〃 said Nathan Lee。 〃I came when you sent word。〃 He pulled off his cap and pawed flat his short; chopped; wet beard; trying to make his face younger。 He didn't dare identify himself by his real name; because the Marines knew him as someone else。 It was not a small matter。 No one had better reason to hide their true identity than a plague carrier。
The old man leaned over the wet railing。 〃Word? What's the word?〃
〃Fred Whipple;〃 Nathan Lee tried。 He dug for other names; praying one of them might still be around。 〃Joe Henry。 Charlie Abbot。 They said ASAP。〃 He added; 〃The bones。〃
〃Ah;〃 said Baird; 〃the bones。〃
〃I'm here。〃
〃Thank god。 We've been waiting for you。〃 Baird looked old as Noah up there with his white beard in the clattering rain。 〃But who are you?〃
There was no way around it。 〃Swift;〃 said Nathan Lee。
One of the Marines said; 〃Wait a minute。〃 He pulled Nathan Lee's blood book from under his poncho for a second look。
〃Is that you; Nathan Lee?〃 Baird leaned out further。 〃They said you were a goner。 Swallowed by the mountains。〃
〃What's your name; sir?〃 the Marine said。
Hurry;thought Nathan Lee。Reach down。 Raise me up。
〃Get in here before you catch your death; man;〃 Baird said。 〃Don't you see it's raining?〃
Nathan Lee reached for the fire escape ladder。 The Marine grabbed his arm。 〃Not so fast;〃 he said。
〃They know me。〃 Nathan Lee smiled。 He tried to smile。 His teeth chattered。
〃Let him go;〃 said the second Marine。 He took the blood book and slapped Nathan Lee's chest with it。 〃The man's home。 At least somebody belongs somewhere。〃
Nathan Lee pulled himself up the fire escape and climbed the metal stairs。 Baird weled him with tobacco breath and mighty slaps on the back。 Inside the building was pitch black。 Baird handed Nathan Lee his two…foot Maglite; heavy as an axe; and pulled the steel door shut against the storm。 〃They said you were dead;〃 he kept repeating。 〃Wait till the others see。〃
Nathan Lee followed him through the dark bowels of the institute。 〃I'm looking for a man named David Ochs;〃 he said。 〃A professor。〃
〃Ox?〃
〃An archaeologist。 A big man。 A professor。〃
〃Never heard of him;〃 said Baird。
〃What about Dean White?〃 Nathan Lee asked hopefully。 White was the curator who had missioned the Himalayan hunt two years ago。
〃White;〃 barked Baird。 〃He got his nuts handed to him after your peccadillo。 Is it true you killed a man? And ate him?〃
〃Are there others from the anthro department here? They'd know about Ochs。〃
〃Gone。 All gone;〃 said Baird。 〃But it's in the paperwork; I'm sure。〃
〃Is the paperwork here; in this building?〃
〃There is a chance。〃 Baird gestured at thousands of cardboard boxes stacked in the hallways。 There was barely room to walk between them。 〃Thought you were dead。〃
Voices trickled from further ahead。 They descended a staircase。 In the distance; he saw a dozen old people eating dinner by candlelight in the dark shadows of a vestibule。
They looked spectral surrounding the silver candelabra。 The men had ties and jackets。 Two wore tuxes; one a smoking jacket with ascot。 The women looked ready for the opera; withpashminas draped over their shoulders to ward off the chill。 They were eating from antique blue plates; with heavy silverware and crystal wine glasses。 Nathan Lee could smell each part of their meal。。。the veal and lobster; the butter sauce and basil; the red wine from old bottles。 Not one of them was under eighty。
〃Look what the wind blew in;〃 Baird announced to the group。 With a slow flourish; he turned to display his discovery。
But the hallway was empty。
15
Expendables
LOSALAMOS
Cavendish's clone passed among them like a ghost。 He traveled everywhere; threading through their security systems; appearing inside their labs; hacking into their puters。 He crawled insidetheir secrets。 He wormed inside their minds。 At first; Adam didn't hate them。 He simply wanted to know what made him different。
In the beginning; his flesh had been sport enough。 No longer stapled to Cavendish's wheelchair; but still filled with Cavendish's memory; it was like passing from himself。 He had started out as Cavendish in mind; but he was no longer Cavendish。 For a time; they had been like Siamese twins joined at the head; right down to the neural twitch and the tremor in their hands。 Every memory before twenty months ago had been a memory shared with his creator。
For a while after Adam's birth; Cavendish had done everything to keep hisdoppelg?nger on a short leash; close at hand; day and night。 Adam was required to dress Cavendish in the morning and wash him at night。 Adam wheeled his chair。 At meetings; he stood to the rear; mute; like some exotic potted plant。 He cooked Cavendish breakfast and dinner。 Even his name; so cliche; like a chain around his neck。
Their chess games were a source of humor for Cavendish。 Neither could make a move the other didn't know。 Every game ended in stalemate。 But then one day Adam made a move of his own。 〃Checkmate;〃 he whispered; and stood。 He towered above the board。 That was the first time he had felt his wings spread open。 They seemed to fill the room。 And Cavendish; ravaged by disease; cupped in his wheelchair; seemed far below。
After that; Adam had systematically severed himself; tissue and mind; from his maker。 It was a dangerous procedure; because his Cavendish…consciousness knew that Caven