rstacy.doomsdaywarrior-第1部分

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　December　29th：
　A　lone　figure；　hunched　down　against　the　howling　winter　wind；　moved　step　by　frozen　step　through　the　Colorado　wilderness。　He　was　ill　clad　for　such　a　winter　trek；　wearing　soft　thin　boots　and　a　clinging　mauve　with…sparkles　tunic。　His　only　defenses　against　the　cold　were　an　engineer　cap　on　his　platinum…blond　thin　hair　and　a　scarf　made　of　an　old　piece　of　furniture　fabric　wrapped　several　times　around　his　thin　pale　neck。
　The　wanderer　was　nearly　frozen　to　death；　his　cracked　and　bleeding　gloveless　hands　shoved　into　small　pockets　lined　with　tissue　paper。　His　pale　face；　buried　in　the　fabric　of　the　scarf；　was　likewise　a　mass　of　cracks。　His　reddish　albino　eyes　were　swollen。　Anyone　could　tell　by　his　shaky　steps　that　he　didn't　have　much　more　left　in　him。　He　was　living　out　the　last　bitter　cold　moments　of　his　unfathomable　life。
　I　am　ready　to　die；　he　thought。　I　have　seen　wonders。。。　I　have　achieved　what　no　man　of　my　generation　has　…　I　have　lived。　Lived　not　like　a　ground　rat；　but　like　a　human　being。　I　have　breathed　real　fresh　air；　smelled　real　smells；　touched　real　plants　and　flowers。　I　will　join　my　panions；　who　fell　long　before　me；　join　them　in　the　warmth　of　death；　away　from　this　bitter　coldness。
　But　such　a　calm　numbing　death　would　not　be。　The　wanderer　would　not　die　of　the　cold。　His　weary　bones　would　not　rest　peaceful　on　the　whiteness。　No。　For　a　stalker　approached　the　man。　A　stalker　of　powerful　sinewy　presence；　a　slinking　nightmare　called　the　Rocky　Mountain　snow　leopard。　It　was　sniffing　the　staggering　man's　footprints；　just　a　hundred　yards　behind。　Just　a　mere　three　seconds　of　unbelievable　feline　speed　and　the　man　would　be　a　morsel；　a　victual；　a　nourishing　treat　for　its　ravenous　desire　for　sustenance。
　The　cat　had　caught　the　scent　miles　away…its　large　nostrils　could　do　that；　pick　up　the　scent　of　a　human…thing；　home　in　on　it　like　a　radar…tracking　robot；　until　it　was　close　enough　to　pounce。　This　had　been　a　hard　winter；　with　few　prey　to　feed　the　twelve…　hundred…pound；　sixteen…foot…long　mutant　leopard's　stomach。　At　last；　it　thought；　at　last　I　will　eat。
　And　it　dug　its　six…toed；　double…clawed　feet　into　the　snow　and　took　off　along　the　footprint　path；　determined　to　end　its　desperate　hunger。　In　a　second；　ing　over　a　small　hill；　it　saw　the　prey。　Not　big；　not　a　whole　stomachful；　but　big　enough。　Its　huge　jaw；　like　the　watery　opening　of　a　tractor's　jaw；　filled　with　rows　of　razor…sharp　teeth；　let　out　a　growl。
　The　creature　saw　the　figure　stop；　turn；　saw　the　human…thing's　long　thin　arms　raised　to　shield　itself　from　the　roaring；　snarling　death　approaching。
　Adrenaline　ran　into　the　cat…creature's　body；　digestive　juices　poured　into　its　gullet。　Thirty　feet　from　the　man…prey　it　leapt　high　in　the　air；　sailed　out　toward　dinner；　confident　it　would　devour…
　〃No〃；　gasped　the　man；　falling　back　into　the　snow；　the　creature　flying　at　him。　He　closed　his　eyes；　as　if　it　would　cease　to　be；　as　if　the　hurtling　monster　would　not　be　there　if　he　just　shut　his　eyes。
　And　then　there　was　a　loud　machine…like　report。　The　sound　of　a　revving　bustion　engine？　The　fall　of　a　hundred　rocks　down　a　mountain　cliff？　No。
　Automatic　weapons　firing。
　The　creature　fell　just　to　the　side　of　the　man…prey；　yellow　globe…eyes　open　and　staring　at　nothing　in　this　world。　Its　body　was　riddled　with　grapefruit…sized　evenly…spaced　holes　oozing　blood。　Explosive…bullet　holes。　The　man　lay　as　still　as　the　dead　thing　alongside。　They　lay　like　some　weird　mother　and　child　in　the　red…stained　snow。　Blood　pumped　weakly　through　the　holes　in　the　giant　cat's　pelt。　It　steamed　in　the　below…zero　air；　quickly　coagulating　into　brown　muck。
　Two　figures　in　heavy　winter　parkas；　carrying　the　smoking　hot　Liberator　rifles　that　had　done　the　damage　to　the　creature；　approached。　They　slid　easily　along　over　the　two　feet　of　snow；　gliding　elegantly　on　short　steel　skis。　Jeffers　and　Biythe　of　the　Century　City　patrol　corps。　Men　who　knew　these　mountains　and　the　dangers　they　held　…　men　equipped　to　deal　with　that　danger。
　Cautiously　they　walked　up　to　the　strangely　garbed　man　and　the　creature　sprawled　out　there　on　the　blood…speckled　whiteness。　They　had　watched　a　bit　before　ing　down　the　slope。　Making　sure。　The　big　cat　hadn't　stirred　except　for　a　few　trembles。　Nerves　settling　down　after　violent　tension。
　Certain　that　the　creature　wouldn't　rise　again　to　threaten；　their　attention　shifted　to　the　man。　What　the　hell　was　he　doing　out　here？　And　why　was　he　dressed　so　inadequately　for　the　weather？　〃Is　he　dead？〃　Biythe　asked　his　panion；　the　icy　wind　half　whipping　away　his　words。
　Jeffers；　who　sometimes　doubled　as　a　medic；　bent　to　feel　the　throat　of　the　prone　human；　searching　for　a　pulse　in　his　jugular。　For　a　second；　there　was　nothing。　Then　he　felt　one　slow　weak　blip　of　the　vessel。　〃I　think　he's　alive　…　though　barely。　e　on…we've　got　to　get　him　inside　the　mountain。〃
　
　
　CHAPTER　1
　
　〃Happy　New　Year；〃　everyone　gathered　in　Century　City's　vast　underground　Lincoln　Square　shouted。　Rona　clinked　her　crystal　champagne　glass　against　Ted　Rockson's。
　〃To　us；〃　Rona　said；　pushing　her　long　red　hair　away　from　her　forehead　with　her　other　hand；　and　taking　a　long　sip。
　Rockson's　mismatched　light　blue　and　violet　eyes　flashed；　and　he　said；　〃Yes；　to　us；　and　to　a　peaceful　New　Year。〃
　The　twelve…piece　dance　band　was　playing　〃Auld　Lang　Syne〃；　confetti　and　streamers　flew　through　the　semidarkness。　Horns　were　nearly　drowning　out　the　music。　A　set　of　streamers　fell　and　decorated　the　couple's　hair；　the　white　tablecloth。
　Rona　stood　up　on　her　long　sparkle…stockinged　legs　and　leaned　over　the　table　and　kissed　her　lover。　The　redhead　lingered；　but　shouts　of　〃Rockson；　Rockson〃　made　her　finally　desist。　Her　hero　was　being　called　on　to　make　a　speech。
　Rockson　demurred；　waving　his　hands；　shaking　his　head　no；　but　to　no　avail。　McCaughlin；　the　massive　Freefighter　who　sat　looking　ridiculous　in　a　white　tuxedo　at　a　nearby　table　with　Shannon　and　Detroit　Green　and　his　wife；　shouted。　〃Go　ahead；　Rock；　speak。　It's　the　only　way　to　quiet　them　and　get　on　with　the　party。　Stand　in　the　spotlight　and　say　a　few　words。〃
　Rockson　put　the　crystal　glass　down　on　the　table　and　rose　to　wild　cheering；　brushing　confetti　out　of　his　hair。　The　tall　bronze…skinned　man　with　the　white　streak　in　the　middle　of　his　jet…black　hair；　the　man　the　world　knew　as　the　Doomsday　Warrior；　strode　to　the　stage。　The　spotlight　changed　to　plain　white；　and　focused　in　unfortably　on　him。
　〃Citizens　of　Century　City；〃　Rockson　began。　〃This　is　the　best　New　Year's　Day　we've　had　in　decades。〃
　Cheers。
　〃The　Russians　are　…　at　least　temporarily　…　vanquished；　the　caverns　containing　this　great　city　have　been　restored　and　expanded；　and　Killov；　the　KGB　madman；　our　greatest　enemy；　is　dead。〃　More　cheers。　〃We　look　forward　to　a　prosperous　and　victorious　new　year。　The　tide　has　turned。　The　Soviet　occupation　forces；　not　we　Americans；　are　on　the　run　now。　So　we　should　all　enjoy　ourselves。　That's　all　I　have　to　say。〃
　They　shouted；　〃More；　more；〃　but　Rockson　just　smiled。　Finally；　they　let　Rockson　sit。　A　loud　off…key　chorus　of　〃Auld　Lang　Syne〃　began；　then　the　ten…piece　orchestra　started　playing　a　waltz。　Rona　pulled　Rockson　up　to　dance；　and　before　he　could　object；　they　were　out　on　the　floor。
　She　was　a　smooth　dancer；　he　managed。　He　pressed　against　her。　Full…bosomed　Rona　was　quite　spectacular　in　her　low…cut　gold　gossamer　gown。　He　was　a　lucky　man。　And　it　was　a　wonderful　New　Year；　he　thought。　The　best　in　his　whole　life。　Years　of　struggle　against　the　hated　Soviet　occupiers　of　America；　years　of　death　and　desperate　bat；　were　finally　bearing　fruit。　Perhaps　the　worst　days　of　America　were　behind　them　now。　He　and　Rona　swirled　with　the　music；　sank　into　each　other's　arms。
　Then　Rockson　caught　a　movement　out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye。　It　was　a　somber；　hawk…nosed　man　in　a　desperate　hurry；　weaving　erratically　across　the　dance　floor；　cutting　between　dancers　who　deferred　to　the　intruder。　〃Uh　oh；〃　Rockson　said；　〃Here　es　Rath。〃
　〃Oh　no。〃　Rona　knew　what　that　could　mean。　The　head　of　Intelligence　Operations　and　Security　always　had　work　for　Rockson。　〃Not　now；〃　she　muttered。　〃Oh　God；　not　now。〃
　It　was　now。　〃Something　has　e　up；〃　old　man　Rath　said　as　he　reached　Rockson's　shoulder。　〃Something　that　can't　wait　until　morning。〃
　〃It'l