jefflong.yearzero-第47部分

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upied　as　hell；　not　just　with　Alpha　Lab；　but　with　but　the　whole　place。　She　could　feel　all　of　their　science　like　silk　in　a　web；　interwoven；　and　wanted　to　be　ready　to　pounce　at　the　slightest　hint　of　a　cure。　It　meant　full…time　vigilance。　And　the　Captain　thought　she　needed　to　chill　a　little。
　〃Okay；〃　she　breathed。　〃What's　'supposedly'　supposed　to　mean？〃
　〃For　starters；　his　blood　log's　a　forgery。　The　gate　security　spotted　the　glue　job　under　an　infrared。　We　don't　know　who　he　is。　He　won't　say。　He　did　show　up　on　an　Appaloosa。〃
　〃An　Appaloosa？〃　she　said。
　〃That　would　be　a　form　of　horse。〃
　Her　finger　tapped　the　tabletop。　〃And　why　did　he　bury　the　package？
　〃He　wants　to　trade。　Make　a　long　story　short；　they　bounced　it　over　here。　To　you。〃
　〃He　wants　in；〃　Miranda　summarized。　Every　day　someone　new　was　clamoring　to　get　behind　the　fence。　Here　was　America　as　it　had　once　been；　a　warm　and　well…lighted　place。　The　shelves　held　food。　〃Tell　him　No　Vacancy。〃
　That　was　the　truth。　No　one　could　have　predicted　Los　Alamos　would　fill　to　the　brim　so　quickly。　Overnight；　it　seemed；　the　national　laboratory's　mission　had　gone　squishy；　in　the　weaponeer's　slang。　Once　the　plague　broke　loose；　LANL's　science　had　shifted　from　the　use　and　abuse　of　Pu；　or　plutonium；　to　the　use　and　abuse　of　the　human　gene。　On　this　rolling　tabletop　with　its　fingerlike　peninsulas　jutting　out　above　the　Rio　Grande　valley；　where　the　bomb　makers　of　yesterday　had　built　a　town；　the　plague　hunters　built　a　city。
　Miranda　still　remembered　the　quaint　Norman　Rockwell　town　with　its　soda　shop　and　movie　theater　and　craft　stores。　It　was　mostly　gone　now；　even　the　golf　course；　scraped　away　to　make　room　for　twenty…seven　thousand　scientists　and　their　support　staff　and　families；　some　ninety　thousand　in　all。　That　didn't　include　the　soldiers；　who　had　their　own　camps。
　〃This　one's　different；〃　the　Captain　said。　〃He　made　sure　he　could　get　out　before　he'd　e　in。　He　wants　to　keep　on　the　move。〃
　〃Is　that　so。〃
　〃He　made　the　guards　promise　to　feed　his　horse　while　he　did　his　business。　Which　would　be　with　you。〃
　〃Now　we're　running　a　stables？　What's　he　want？〃
　〃You；　I　guess。　The　one　in　charge。〃
　〃That　would　be　Cavendish；〃　she　said。
　〃Might　as　well　just　put　a　bullet　in　him。〃
　〃What　am　I　supposed　to　do？　I'm　not　Herr　Direktor。〃
　〃Nope。　You're　just　Miranda。　Abbot；〃　he　added。　The　Captain　continued　standing　there　with　the　box　in　his　hands。　He　knew；　they　all　knew；　Miranda　had　a　power　Cavendish　could　never　have。　She　had　her　father。　In　these　times　of　plague；　even　the　generals　obeyed　the　science　czar's　opinion。　Cavendish　might　rule　LANL；　but　Paul　Abbot　ruled　him。　Cavendish　seemed　to　respect　that；　if　just　barely。
　He　and　Miranda　had　clashed　before。　Often。　Their　philosophies　were　like　night　and　day。　In　her　mind；　scientists　should　have　intellectual　bungee　cords　attached　to　their　feet；　allowing　them　to　take　huge；　bravo　leaps　into　the　unknown　and　still　return　safely；　ready　for　another　leap。　They　should　keep　trying　and　trying。　But　to　Cavendish；　every　experiment　was　an　expedition　setting　off　into　its　own　dark　jungle。　The　explorers　were　not　expected　to　surface　until　the　prize　was　in　hand。Death　is　terminal；　he　liked　to　remind　them。No　failure。
　The　perverse　part　was　that　Cavendish　himself　had　built　failure　into　the　system。　Upon　assuming　full　mand　after　Elise's　death；　he　had　recreated　the　system　in　his　own　image。　The　fact　was　he　liked　failure；　at　least　of　a　certain　kind。　The　majority　of　his　recruits　were　scientists　who　had　failed　on　a　grand　scale　in　their　former　careers；　people　who　had　taken　radical；　reckless　chances　and　arrived　at　results　for　wrong　or　unexplainable　reasons。　To　her　great　annoyance；　Cavendish　held　Miranda　herself　up　as　a　prime　example　of　the　revved…up　Type　A　who　might　ultimately　flip　the　microbe　inside　out。
　For　that　reason　there　were　many　more　young　researchers　than　old　at　LANL。　Youth；　everyone　accepted；　could　withstand　eighteen…hour　work…days　better。　More　to　Cavendish's　purpose；　the　whiz　kids　also　came　less　attached　to　fixed　paradigms。　All　the　orthodox　approaches　to　immunology　and　disease　control　and　microbe　hunting　had　been　exhausted　by　countless　scientists　in　the　plague's　early　days。　None　had　put　a　dent　in　it。　What　was　needed　was　a　break　from　conventional　thinking。　Cavendish　wanted　bold；　gonzo；　nonlinear；　counterintuitive　aggression。　He　wanted　heretics。　He　had　gotten　them。　And　still　they　were　failing。
　〃I　am　trying　to　finish　something；〃　she　said　to　the　Captain。
　The　Captain　took　that　as　an　invitation。　He　set　his　cardboard　box　on　a　chair　and　started　arranging　things　on　her　desk。　〃Confiscated　this　stuff；〃　he　said。
　On　top　of　her　paperwork；　he　placed　a　statue　of　a　nude　woman　lying　on　her　side。　It　was　no　larger　than　a　paperweight。　Next　cameHimalayan　Flora；　the　strangest…looking　book　Miranda　had　ever　seen。　The　covers　were　warped；　and　it　was　hand　sewn　with　a　hodgepodge　of　exotic　paper。　Beside　that　he　laid　a　blood　book　filled　with　a　string　of　station　stamps　that　began　in　Alaska。　Charles　Andrew　Bowen；　it　said。　Six　feet　two　inches；　one　hundred　fifty　pounds；　gray　eyes。　The　man's　face　was　gaunt　and　set；　his　wirerims　taped　and　glinting。
　She　didn't　mean　to　open　it；　but　the　book　sunk　a　hook　in　her；　and　she　opened　it。　The　pages　were　crowded　with　drawings　and　notes　and　stories。　From　one　part　to　another；　the　smells　changed：　incense；　gunpowder；　sea。　She　flipped　the　pages；　paused　at　a　Mongolian　visa　stamp；　stopped　again　at　a　pressed　flower。　It　had　tiny　blue　blossoms。　The　roots　were　so　long；　he　had　curled　them　in　a　spiral。　It　was　a　tundra　plant　of　some　kind；　she　guessed；　adapted　to　live　underground　most　of　the　year。　A　buried　thing　that　only　showed　itself　occasionally。
　It　was　written　for　a　child；　she　gathered。　Grace。
　Miranda　picked　up　a　folded　sheaf　of　documents。　A　handwritten　Exchange　of　Ownership　detailed　his　trade　for　the　horse；　two　weeks　ago；　from　a　ranch　on　the　New　Mexican　border　for　some　pieces　of　melted　gold。　A　letter　testified　to　Dr。　Bowen's　delivery　of　twins　to　a　woman　in　Kansas。　Another　letter；　written　by　a　militia　leader；　authorized　safe　passage　for　its　bearer。Bowen；　M。D。；　saved　the　life　of　one　of　my　men。　Aid　him　how　you　can。
　There　were　Army　food　chits；　pink　national　gas　ration　coupons；　several　hundred　dollars　in　equally　useless　American　currency；　plus　one　raffle　ticket　for　a　July　Fourth　pie　contest　in　Hannibal；　Missouri。
　Finally　she　came　to　her　own　letter；　written　on　LANL　letterhead　almost　ten　months　earlier。　It　listed　every　possible　artifact　her　assistants　could　find　in　their　puter　search　of　the　Smithsonian　holdings。　She　was　familiar　with　some　of　the　items；　which　had　long　since　been　processed　and　cloned。　At　the　bottom　of　the　page　was　Ochs's　note　and　signature　for　the　November　consignment。
　〃Ochs；〃　she　vented。　Only　last　week；　he　had　swooped　through　Alpha　Lab　and　done　his　little　death　tap　on　one　of　her　researchers。　Cavendish's　policy　of　deporting　〃nonessential　personnel〃　was　nothing　more　than　a　bloodless　execution。　He　and　his　henchmen　used　it　on　subversives；　critics　of　his　regime；　even　the　occasional　amateur　cartoonist。　In　the　case　of　Miranda's　researcher；　the　poor　woman　had　done　nothing　wrong　at　all　except　to　work　under　Miranda's　roof。　The　deport　order　had　been　another　shot　across　her　bow；　and　the　Captain　had　managed　to　halt　the　exile；　but　only　after　hours　of　work。
　〃But　Ochs　told　us　there　were　no　more　relics；〃　she　said。
　〃Probably　just　grabbed　what　he　could　and　hightailed　it　back　here。〃
　〃It's　been　months；〃　she　said。　〃Months。　We　need　those　relics。〃
　〃As　I　recall；　he　didn't　want　to　go　in　the　first　place。〃
　In　fact；　Miranda　had　sent　him　kicking　and　screaming　to　Washington。　She　had　deported　Ochs；　however　briefly；　so　that　he　could　know　how　it　felt。　On　top　of　that；　it　had　been　a　trivial；　foolish　slap　at　Cavendish　and　his　terrorism。　She　should　never　have　done　it。　It　made　her　feel　dirty。　And　Ochs　had　returned　within　three　days；　more　hateful　than　ever。
　Miranda　surrendered。　〃Fine；〃　she　said。　〃I'll　talk　to　him。　Do　I　get　to　finish　what　I　was　doing　first？〃
　〃I　interrupted　you？〃
　〃A　half　hour；　Captain。〃
　He　closed　the　door　after　himself。
　Miranda　tried　to　finish　the　assay　reports；　but　the　little　nude　andHimalayan　Flora　kept　distracting　her。　The　statue　was　a　marvelous；　p