jefflong.yearzero-第76部分

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s　wanted　the　clone；　of　course。　Ochs　must　have　been　chewing　his　liver　all　these　months；　watching　while　Nathan　Lee　brought　the　Year　Zero　tribe　to　life。　The　Jesus　controversy　would　be　irresistible　to　him。　Then　another　thought　occurred　to　Nathan　Lee。　〃You're　the　one；〃　he　said。
　Ochs　faltered。　〃The　one？〃
　〃You　stuffed　his　head　with　this　craziness。〃
　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃
　〃It　was　your　voice　pouring　scripture　into　his　ear。〃
　〃Why　would　I　do　that？〃　For　a　moment；　Ochs　sounded。。。humble。
　Nathan　Lee　didn't　put　another　thought　into　it。　He　didn't　care。　They　were　trading　places；　the　inside　for　the　outside。　Ochs　could　have　the　clone。　〃Where　is　she？〃　Nathan　Lee　said。
　〃Everything's　arranged；〃　said　Ochs。　〃You　only　need　to　go。〃
　〃Where？〃
　〃She　never　really　knew　you　existed；　you　know。　She　was　only　four　when　you　disappeared。　Lydia　got　rid　of　any　pictures　of　you。〃
　〃Have　you　spoken　with　her？〃
　〃Trust　me。〃　And　because　he　knew　that　was　ludicrous；　Ochs　added；　〃You'll　be　bringing　Lydia　in　with　you。〃
　〃Why　didn't　you　tell　me　sooner？〃
　〃It　was　too　soon。　Conditions　weren't　right。　I　had　to　hold　you　in　reserve。〃　Ochs　made　no　sense。
　〃So　Grace　is　alive；〃　Nathan　Lee's　voice　flattened。　It　was　like　sediment　ing　to　rest。
　Ochs　heard　his　dead　calm。　〃Good；〃　he　approved。　〃I　think　it's　finally　time　for　your　journey；　Nathan　Lee。　It's　time　to　bring　them　in　from　the　storm。〃
　
　
　29
　Grace
　
　OCTOBER　10
　Nathan　Lee　had　heard　of　deck　sweeps。　They　were　legend；　and　the　raiders　who　descended　to　the　ground　level…or　deck…lived　in　their　own　camp　on　the　furthest　edge　of　South　Sector。　You　never　saw　them　in　Los　Alamos。　It　was　said　they　were　too　brutal　to　mingle　with　ordinary　people。
　Floodlights　lit　the　airfield。　By　the　time　Nathan　Lee　joined　them；　most　of　the　three　platoons　were　in　their　moon　suits　and　variously　armed。　Some　carried　rifles　or　shotguns。　Others　had　nets；　chains；　aluminum　baseball　bats；　and　collapsible　poles。　They　eyed　him　coldly。　Their　hair　was　white　from　the　decon　chemicals。
　Nathan　Lee　understood　their　hostility。　He　didn't　belong。　They　had　their　own　code。　He　was　nothing　to　them。　He　didn't　mind。　He　was　going　to　bring　his　daughter　home。
　Suiting　up　was　plicated。　Riggers　helped　with　the　equipment。　A　wiry　man　with　quick　fingers　worked　on　Nathan　Lee。　He　rattled　off　the　factoids。　〃This　is　your　second　skin　for　today；　a　Tevlek　biohazard　rig；　fourth　generation；　brand　new。　Use　once；　throw　away。　We　don't　recycle　around　here。〃
　Nathan　Lee　pulled　a　pair　of　steel…toed　fireman　boots　over　the　outside　of　his　plastic…wrapped　feet。　They　came　up　to　his　knees。　〃It's　mean　down　there；〃　the　rigger　said。　〃Avoid　the　sharps。　Broken　glass。　Pieces　of　metal。　Bone　tips；　they're　the　worst；　auto…contagious；　right？　Think　fast。　Move　slow。　Place　your　feet。　Anything　that　can　put　a　hole　in　your　rig；　keep　away　from　it。〃
　〃How　many　times　have　you　gone　down？〃　asked　Nathan　Lee。
　〃Me？　Are　you　kidding？〃
　Nathan　Lee　triple…gloved：　latex　under　latex；　under　ribbed　Kevlar。　The　rigger　fitted　him　with　a　headset　to　wear　inside　his　hood。　The　band　was　filled　with　soldiers　talking　to　soldiers。　He　harnessed　Nathan　Lee　with　a　respirator　unit　that　sterilized　every　breath　with　ultraviolet　light。
　〃This　is　your　camel　back。〃　He　draped　a　bladder　with　shoulder　straps　along　Nathan　Lee's　spine。　〃It　holds　two　gallons　of　water。　You're　going　to　get　hot　and　hungry　inside　the　suit。　It's　important　to　stay　hydrated。　Water　discipline。　Every　fifteen　minutes；　take　a　sip　from　this。〃　He　held　the　tube　running　from　the　camel　back　to　Nathan　Lee's　lips。　〃It's　a　glucose　and　protein　mix。　Did　they　screen　you　for　claustrophobia？〃
　They　had　not。　There　had　been　no　time　for　any　preparation。　〃I'll　be　fine；〃　said　Nathan　Lee。
　〃Right。　Things　will　feel　a　bit　tight　once　you're　sealed　in。　Add　heat；　hunger；　and　dehydration；　and　by　the　end　of　the　day　you'll　want　out　of　the　rig。　Whatever　you　do；　do　not　remove　your　equipment。　We　take　care　of　that　for　you　at　decon。　Sometimes　a　troop　will　lose　it　in　the　field。　All　it　takes　is　one　bad　second。　Take　off　your　helmet　and　that's　all　she　wrote。〃　The　rigger　tugged　hard　at　his　straps。　〃We'll　know　if　you　break　the　seal　on　your　helmet。　Be　your　own　master。　Don't　self…destruct。〃
　He　laid　out　the　contents　of　a　field　kit：　a　quart　bottle　of　bleach　to　splash　on　any　punctures；　a　roll　of　duct　tape　to　patch　any　holes；　a　hand　pump　to　siphon　fuel；　and　a　GPS　receiver　to　track　his　coordinates。　The　kit　held　no　first　aid　equipment。　The　message　was　clear。　No　casualties　allowed。　One　cut；　one　nick；　and　you　were　a　write…off　anyway。
　〃Hey；〃　a　soldier　shouted　over；　pointing　at　his　ears；　〃channel　four。〃
　〃You　got　a　private　call；〃　said　the　rigger。　He　switched　Nathan　Lee's　wrist　dial　to　channel　four。　Nathan　Lee　wanted　it　to　be　Miranda。　Instead　it　was　Ochs。
　〃Ready　for　the　abyss？〃
　〃Where　am　I　going？〃
　〃Patience；　son。　Let's　not　spoil　the　suspense。〃
　Everything　was　wrong　with　this。　Ochs　was　setting　him　up；　he　was　sure　of　it。　But　what　choice　did　he　have？　Ochs　had　the　power　of　a　secret　over　him；　and　Nathan　Lee　was　helpless　against　that。　〃You　could　have　sent　me　off　months　ago。　I　would　have　gone。〃
　〃I　told　you；　it　was　too　soon。〃
　〃Too　soon　for　what？〃
　They　had　been　through　this。　〃It's　like　the　old　days。　Trust　me。　Stay　tuned。　Obey　me；　and　the　world　will　be　right　again。〃　Ochs　cut　the　munication。
　The　rigger　duct　taped　Kevlar　gloves　to　Nathan　Lee's　wrists　and　the　boots　to　his　knees；　and　layered　plastic　armor　over　his　elbows　and　chest　and　knees。　Finally　he　sealed　him　shut　inside　the　helmet。　There　was　a　slight　rush　of　air。　Nathan　Lee's　ears　popped。　He　could　hear　over　the　radio；　but　the　external　world　was　muffled。　When　the　rigger　patted　his　head；　he　felt　far　away。　Nathan　Lee　gave　a　thumbs…up。　The　rigger　saluted　him。
　Three　troop　carriers　and　a　big　cargo　helicopter　waited。　The　pilots　wore　moon　suits；　too。　They　looked　like　astronauts　ready　for　motocross。　Passing　the　cargo　bird；　Nathan　Lee　saw　empty　cages　in　the　cavernous　bay。
　The　helicopters　plunged　north　off　the　high　mesa。　The　soldiers　sat　strapped　in　the　hold　and　the　air　turned　chill。　They　passed　high　above　the　valley。　Nathan　Lee　saw　the　pueblo　he'd　gone　through　on　his　way　to　Los　Alamos；　long　ago；　it　seemed。　But　the　tank　was　gone；　and　the　square　looked　deserted。　Further　on；　he　spied　campfires　along　the　Rio　Grande。　People　were　walking　along　the　highway。
　〃Pilgrims；〃　a　voice　said　over　his　headset。　It　was　the　crew　chief。　〃Word　spread　fast。　They　started　showing　up　yesterday。〃
　〃Where　are　they　from？〃
　〃Locals。　Out　of　Chama　and　Espa？ola　and　Tres　Piedras。　Milagro　Beanfield　types。〃
　The　helicopters　sprinted　between　ancient　volcanoes　and　across　old　seabeds；　then　took　a　right　through　the　Rockies　to　follow　the　front　range。　Not　a　car　moved　along　the　black　thread　of　I…25。
　They　swept　past　Colorado　Springs；　and　the　dawn　spotlighted　towering　mountains　and　glassy　office　towers。　Red　sandstone　fins　flashed　beneath。　Nearby；　Nathan　Lee　knew；　the　seat　of　federal　government　was　burrowed　deep　inside　Cheyenne　Mountain。　Like　King　Arthur；　the　President　and　his　administrative　heads　and　Congress　and　the　Supreme　Court　were　hibernating　until　the　day　their　dead　nation　came　to　life　and　called　for　them　again。　On　his　way　to　Los　Alamos　last　summer；　the　place　had　been　a　beehive　of　trucks　passing　through　battalions　of　sentinels；　stocking　democracy's　keep。　Now　it　was　still。
　The　aspens　were　turning。　The　hillsides　blazed　with　gold　and　red　leaves。　Past　the　Air　Force　Academy；　they　came　to　a　flat　hilltop　girdled　by　tank　traps　and　razor　wire。　Small　white　radar　dishes　tracked　their　approach。　The　helicopters　landed　to　refuel。
　As　the　fuel　tanks　filled；　so　did　Nathan　Lee's　bladder。　He　knew　better　than　to　ask。　No　potty　breaks　in　the　plague　zone。　He　looked　around　at　his　stoic　panions；　and　recalled　stories　of　sickly　Crusaders　who　kept　riding　even　with　diarrhea　leaking　down　their　saddles。　He　sat　in　his　warm　urine　without　expression。
　Then　they　were　airborne　again；　hurtling　due　north。Denver；　he　guessed。　The　sun　inched　higher　upon　the　flat　plains。　As　far　as　his　eye　could　see；　unharvested　wheat　and　corn　and　rampant　tall　grasses　had　gone　to　seed。　Their　rotor　blast　flushed　animals。　A　herd　of　horses　galloped　with　their　shadow　like　dolphins　leaping。　Denve