p&c.thunderhead-第11部分

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r　run　slightly　to　get　the　areas　you　need。　The　only　thing　you'd　have　to　do　is　put　in　a　purchase　request　as　soon　as　the　data　is　downloaded　from　the　shuttle。　Normally　the　data　is　proprietary　for　a　couple　of　years；　but　the　right　kind　of　academic　requests　can　get　around　that。　I'd　lead　you　through　the　red　tape　when　the　time　es。〃　
　〃A　purchase　request？　You　mean　I　have　to　pay？〃　
　〃It's　very　expensive；〃　said　Holroyd。　
　〃What　are　we　talking　here？　A　couple　of　hundred　bucks？〃　
　〃More　like　twenty　thousand。〃　
　〃Twenty　thousand　dollars！　Are　you　crazy？〃　
　〃Sorry。　That's　something　not　even　Watkins　can　control。〃　
　〃Where　the　hell　am　I　going　to　get　twenty　thousand　dollars？〃　Nora　exploded。　
　〃Look；　I'd　be　arranging　an　alteration　in　the　orbit　of　a　United　States　spacecraft　for　you。　That's　bad　enough。　What　else　do　you　want　me　to　do；　steal　the　damn　data？〃　
　There　was　a　silence。　
　〃Now　there's　an　idea；〃　said　Nora。　
　
　
7
　
　IF　NORA　HAD　EVER　WALKED　INTO　A　HOTTER；　stuffier　place　than　Peter　Holroyd's　apartment；　she　couldn't　remember　it。　The　air　was　not　just　dying　here；　she　decided；　it　was　dead　and　deposing。　
　〃Got　any　ice？〃　she　asked。　
　Holroyd；　who　had　walked　down　the　four　flights　of　stairs　to　retrieve　his　mail　and　open　the　door　for　her；　shook　his　shaggy　head。　〃Sorry。　Freezer's　busted。〃　
　Nora　watched　him　sort　through　his　mail。　Below　the　mop　of　sandy　hair；　the　very　white　skin　of　his　face　was　stretched　over　two　prominent　cheekbones。　As　he　moved；　his　limbs　never　seemed　to　be　in　the　right　place；　and　his　legs　seemed　a　little　short　for　his　narrow　torso　and　bony　arms。　And　yet　the　overall　impression　of　melancholy　was　countered　by　a　pair　of　intelligent　green　eyes　that　looked　hopefully　out　on　the　world。　His　taste　in　clothes　was　questionable：　striped　brown　polyester　pants；　topped　by　a　V…neck　short…sleeved　checkered　shirt。　
　Grimy　yellow　curtains　flapped　apathetically　in　the　travesty　of　a　breeze。　Nora　walked　to　the　window；　glancing　south　toward　the　dusky　boulevards　of　East　L。A。　Then　she　looked　down　toward　the　nearby　intersection　and　the　front　window　of　Al's　Pizza。　She'd　spent　the　last　two　nights　at　a　friend's　house　in　Thousand　Oaks。　This　was　an　ugly　little　corner　of　L。A。；　and　she　felt　a　sudden　sympathy　for　Peter　and　his　longing　for　adventure。　
　She　took　a　step　back。　The　apartment　was　so　barren　she　was　unable　to　determine　what　kind　of　housekeeper　Holroyd　was。　A　small　bookcase；　made　up　of　plywood　strips　balanced　on　cinderblocks。　Two　elderly　Adirondack　chairs；　festooned　with　back　issues　of　Old　Bike　Journal。　An　ancient　motorcycle　helmet　on　the　floor；　scarred　and　scuffed。　〃Is　that　your　bike　I　saw　chained　to　the　lamppost？〃　Nora　asked。　
　〃Yup。　An　old　'46　Indian　Chief。　Mostly。〃　He　grinned。　〃Inherited　a　basket　case　from　my　great…uncle；　and　scrounged　the　rest　of　the　parts　here　and　there。　You　ride？〃　
　〃My　dad　had　an　old　dirt　bike　I　used　to　ride　around　the　ranch。　Rode　my　brother's　Hog　once　or　twice　before　he　laid　it　down　on　Route　66。〃　Nora　looked　back　toward　the　window。　There　was　a　row　of　very　strange…looking　plants：　black；　crimson；　a　riot　of　drooping　stalks　and　pendulous　flowers。　Must　be　the　only　things　around　here　that　enjoy　the　heat；　she　thought。　
　A　small　plant　with　dark　purple　flowers　caught　her　attention。　〃Hey；　what's　this？〃　she　asked；　reaching　out　curiously。　
　Holroyd　looked　over；　then　dropped　the　mail。　〃Don't　touch　that！〃　he　cried。　Nora　jerked　her　hand　away。　
　〃It's　belladonna；〃　Holroyd　said；　bending　to　pick　up　the　scatter。　〃Deadly　nightshade。〃　
　〃You're　kidding；〃　Nora　said。　〃And　this？〃　She　pointed　to　a　neighboring　plant；　a　small　flower　with　exotic　maroon　spikes。　
　〃Monkshood。　It　contains　aconitine；　which　is　a　really　terrific　poison。　In　the　tray　there　are　the　three　deadliest　mushrooms：　the　Death　Cap；　Fool's　Mushroom；　and　A。　virosa；　the　Destroying　Angel。　And　in　that　pot　on　the　sill…〃　
　〃I　get　the　picture。〃　Nora　turned　away　from　the　Death　Cap；　its　horrible　mantle　resembling　plague…spotted　skin；　and　gazed　once　again　around　the　bare　apartment。　〃Enemies　bothering　you？〃　
　Holroyd　tossed　the　mail　into　the　garbage　and　barked　a　laugh；　his　green　eyes　suddenly　catching　the　light。　〃Some　people　collect　stamps。　I　collect　botanical　poisons。〃　
　Nora　followed　him　into　the　kitchen；　a　small；　cramped　area　almost　as　free　of　furniture　as　the　rest　of　the　apartment。　A　large　wooden　table　had　been　pushed　up　against　the　old　refrigerator。　Sitting　on　the　table　were　a　keyboard；　a　three…button　mouse；　and　the　largest　monitor　she　had　ever　seen。　
　Holroyd　smiled　at　her　appreciative　glance。　〃Not　a　bad　chunk　of　video　real　estate；　is　it？　Just　like　the　ones　at　the　Lab。　A　few　years　ago　Watkins　bought　these　for　all　his　top　imaging　staff。　He　assumes　that　no　one　who　works　for　him　has　a　social　life。　Pretty　good　assumption；　at　least　as　far　as　I'm　concerned。〃　He　glanced　at　her。　
　Nora　raised　a　speculative　eyebrow　at　him。　〃So　you　do　bring　some　homework　with　you；　after　all。〃　
　The　smile　vanished　as　he　caught　the　implication。　〃Only　declassified　homework；〃　he　replied；　as　he　reached　into　a　rumpled　Jiffy　bag　and　pulled　out　a　rewriteable　DVD　disk。　〃What　you　asked　for　doesn't　exactly　fit　that　category。〃　
　〃Can　I　ask　how　you　did　it？〃　
　〃I　took　the　raw　data　from　the　shuttle　feed　this　morning　and　burned　an　extra　copy　onto　the　disk。　I've　always　got　a　handful　of　disks　in　my　backpack；　nobody　would　know　the　difference。〃　He　waggled　the　disk　and　it　flashed　in　the　dim　light；　sending　out　a　coruscation　of　color。　〃If　you　have　the　right　clearance；　stealing　data　isn't　difficult。　It's　just　that；　if　you　get　caught；　the　penalties　are　much　stiffer。　Much　stiffer。〃　He　grimaced。　
　〃I　realize　that；〃　said　Nora。　〃Thank　you；　Peter。〃　
　He　looked　at　her。　〃You　knew　I'd　help；　didn't　you？　Even　before　you　left　the　pizza　parlor。〃　
　Nora　returned　the　glance。　It　was　true；　once　he'd　described　the　way　he　could　access　the　data；　she　felt　certain　he'd　agree。　But　she　did　not　want　to　hurt　his　pride。　〃I　hoped　you　would；〃　she　replied。　〃But　I　wasn't　really　sure　until　you　called　the　next　morning。　And　I　can't　tell　you　how　much　I　appreciate　it。〃　
　Nora　realized　Holroyd　was　blushing。　He　quickly　turned　his　back　and　opened　the　refrigerator　door。　Inside；　Nora　could　see　two　cans　of　alcohol…free　beer；　some　V8　juice；　and　a　large　puter　CPU。　Looking　more　closely；　she　noticed　the　puter　was　connected　to　the　monitor　by　cables　running　through　a　small　insulated　hole　in　the　back　of　the　refrigerator。　
　〃Too　hot　out　here；〃　Holroyd　said；　sliding　the　disk　into　the　puter　housing　and　closing　the　refrigerator　door。　〃Put　your　topo　over　there；　okay？〃　
　Nora　began　to　unroll　the　map；　then　paused。　〃You　realize　this　won't　be　like　crunching　numbers　all　day　long　in　an　air…conditioned　lab；〃　she　said。　〃On　a　small　dig　like　this；　everybody　does　double　or　triple　duty。　You'd　be　ing　along　as　an　assistant；　specializing　in　image　sensing。　Only　they're　not　called　'assistants'　on　archaeological　digs。　They're　called　'diggers。'　For　a　reason。〃　
　Holroyd　blinked　at　her。　〃What　are　you　trying　to　do？　Talk　me　out　of　going？〃　
　〃I　just　want　to　make　sure　you　know　what　you're　getting　into。〃　
　〃You've　seen　the　books　I　read。　I　know　it　won't　be　a　picnic。　That's　part　of　the　challenge；　isn't　it？〃　He　sat　down　at　the　wooden　table　and　pulled　the　keyboard　toward　him。　〃I'm　risking　a　possible　prison　sentence；　bringing　you　this　data。　You　think　I'm　afraid　of　a　little　digging？〃　
　Nora　smiled。　〃Point　taken。〃　She　pulled　up　a　plastic　chair。　〃Now　how　does　this　thing　work；　exactly？〃　
　〃Radar's　just　another　kind　of　light。　We　shine　it　down　on　Earth　from　the　shuttle；　and　it　bounces　back　changed。　The　Terrestrial　Imager　simply　takes　digital　photographs　of　what　bounces　back；　and　then　bines　them。〃　Holroyd　punched　some　keys。　There　was　a　brief　pause；　then　a　small　window　opened　at　the　bottom　of　the　screen；　displaying　scrolling　messages　as　a　plex　program　began　to　boot。　Several　other　small　windows　flew　open　in　corners　of　the　screen；　displaying　various　software　tools。　Then　a　large　window　appeared　at　the　screen's　center。　Holroyd　moused　the　cursor　through　several　menus。　Finally；　an　image　began　rolling　down　the　large　central　screen；　line　by　line；　painted　in　artificial　reds。　
　〃Is　that　it？〃　Nora　stared　at　the　screen　in　disappointment。　This　was　the　last　thing　she'd　expecte