p&c.thunderhead-第14部分

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　in　both　directions。　She　was　uncertain　whether　the　nervousness　she　felt　had　to　do　with　the　events　of　the　night　before　or　with　the　impending　meeting。　Had　word　of　her　shenanigans　at　JPL　somehow　gotten　out？　No；　that　was　impossible。　But　maybe　this　was　going　to　be　a　dismissal　anyway。　Why　else　would　Ernest　Goddard　want　to　see　her？　Her　head　ached　from　lack　of　sleep。　
　All　she　knew　about　the　chairman　was　what　she　had　read；　along　with　the　rare　newspaper　photo　and　even　rarer　glimpse　of　his　striking　figure　around　campus。　Although　Dr。　Blakewood　might　have　been　prime　mover　and　chief　architect　of　the　Institute's　vision；　Nora　knew　that　Goddard　was　the　real　power　and　money　behind　Blakewood's　throne。　And　unlike　Blakewood；　Goddard　had　an　almost　supernatural　ability　to　cultivate　the　press；　managing　to　get　the　occasional　tasteful　and　laudatory　article　placed　in　just　the　right　venue。　She　had　heard　several　explanations　for　the　man's　tremendous　wealth；　from　inheriting　a　motor　oil　fortune　to　discovering　a　submarine　full　of　Nazi　gold…none　of　which　seemed　credible。　
　She　took　a　deep　breath　and　grasped　the　doorknob　firmly。　Maybe　a　dismissal　would　be　a　good　thing　at　this　point。　It　would　free　her　to　pursue　Quivira　unhindered。　The　Institute；　in　the　person　of　Dr。　Blakewood；　had　already　passed　judgment　on　her　proposed　expedition。　Holroyd　had　given　her　the　ammunition　she　needed　to　take　the　idea　somewhere　else。　If　the　Institute　wasn't　interested；　she　knew　she　would　find　a　place　that　was。　
　A　small；　nervous　secretary　ushered　her　through　the　reception　area　to　the　inner　office。　The　space　was　as　cool　and　spare　as　a　church；　with　whitewashed　adobe　walls　and　a　Mexican　tiled　floor。　Instead　of　the　imposing　power　desk　Nora　had　expected；　there　was　a　huge　wooden　worktable；　badly　scuffed　and　dented。　She　looked　around　in　surprise；　it　was　the　exact　opposite　of　Dr。　Blakewood's　office。　Except　for　a　row　of　pots　on　the　worktable；　lined　up　as　if　at　attention；　the　room　was　devoid　of　ornamentation。　
　Behind　the　worktable　stood　Ernest　Goddard；　longish　white　hair　haloing　his　gaunt　face；　a　salt…and…pepper　beard　below　lively　blue　eyes。　One　hand　held　a　pencil。　A　rumpled　cotton　handkerchief　drooped　from　his　jacket　pocket。　His　body　was　thin　and　frail；　and　his　gray　suit　hung　loosely　on　his　bony　frame。　Nora　would　have　thought　he　was　ill；　except　that　his　eyes　were　clear；　bright；　and　full　of　fire。　
　〃Dr。　Kelly；〃　he　said；　laying　down　the　pencil　and　ing　around　the　worktable　to　shake　her　hand。　〃So　good　to　meet　you　at　last。〃　His　voice　was　unusual：　low；　dry；　barely　higher　than　a　whisper。　And　yet　it　carried　enormous　authority。　
　〃Please　call　me　Nora；〃　she　replied　guardedly。　This　cordial　reception　was　the　last　thing　she　expected。　
　〃I　believe　I　will；〃　Goddard　paused　to　remove　the　handkerchief　and　cough　into　it　with　a　delicate；　almost　feminine　gesture。　〃Have　a　seat。　Oh；　but　before　you　do；　take　a　look　at　these　ceramics；　will　you？〃　He　poked　the　handkerchief　back　into　his　pocket。　
　Nora　approached　the　table。　She　counted　a　dozen　painted　bowls；　all　peerless　examples　of　ancient　pottery　from　the　Mimbres　valley　of　New　Mexico。　Three　were　pure　geometrics　with　vibrant　rhythms；　and　two　contained　abstract　insect　designs：　a　stinkbug　and　a　cricket。　The　rest　were　covered　with　anthropomorphics…splendidly　precise；　geometric　human　figures。　Each　pot　had　a　neat　hole　punched　in　the　bottom。　
　〃They're　magnificent；〃　Nora　said。　
　Goddard　seemed　about　to　speak；　then　turned　to　cough。　A　buzzer　sounded　on　the　worktable。　〃Dr。　Goddard；　Mrs。　Henigsbaugh　to　see　you。〃　
　〃Send　her　in；〃　Goddard　said。　
　Nora　threw　him　a　glance。　〃Shall　I…〃　
　〃You　stay　right　here；〃　Goddard　said；　indicating　the　chair。　〃This　will　only　take　a　minute。〃　
　The　door　opened　and　a　woman　of　perhaps　seventy　swept　into　the　room。　Immediately；　Nora　recognized　the　type：　Santa　Fe　society　matron；　rich；　thin；　tan；　almost　no　makeup；　in　fabulous　shape；　wearing　an　exquisite　but　understated　Navajo　squash　blossom　necklace　over　a　silk　blouse；　with　a　long　velveteen　skirt。　
　〃Ernest；　how　delightful；〃　she　said。　
　〃Wonderful　to　see　you；　Lily；〃　Goddard　replied。　He　waved　a　spotted　hand　at　Nora。　〃This　is　Dr。　Nora　Kelly；　an　assistant　professor　here　at　the　Institute。〃　
　The　woman　glanced　from　Nora　to　the　worktable。　〃Ah；　very　good。　These　are　the　pots　I　told　you　about。〃　
　Goddard　nodded。　
　〃My　appraiser　says　they're　worth　five　hundred　thousand　if　they're　worth　a　penny。　Extremely　rare；　he　said；　and　in　perfect　condition。　Harry　collected　them；　you　know。　He　wanted　the　Institute　to　have　them　when　he　died。〃　
　〃They're　very　nice…〃　
　〃I　should　say　they　are！〃　the　woman　interrupted；　patting　her　impeccable　hair。　〃Now　about　their　display。　I　realize；　of　course；　that　the　Institute　doesn't　have　a　formal　museum　or　anything　of　that　sort。　But　in　light　of　the　value　of　these　pots；　obviously　you'll　want　to　create　something　special。　In　the　administration　building；　I　imagine。　I've　spoken　to　Simmons；　my　architect；　and　he's　drawn　up　plans　for　something　we're　calling　the　Henigsbaugh　Alcove…〃　
　〃Lily。〃　Goddard's　whispery　voice　assumed　a　very　subtle　edge　of　mand。　〃As　I　was　about　to　say；　we're　deeply　appreciative　of　your　late　husband's　bequest。　But　I'm　afraid　we　can't　accept　it。〃　
　There　was　a　silence。　
　〃I　beg　your　pardon？〃　Mrs。　Henigsbaugh　asked；　her　voice　suddenly　cold。　
　Goddard　waved　his　handkerchief　at　the　worktable。　〃These　bowls　came　from　graves。　We　can't　take　them。〃　
　〃What　do　you　mean；　from　graves？　Harry　bought　the　pots　from　reputable　dealers。　Didn't　you　get　the　papers　I　sent　along？　There's　nothing　about　graves　in　them。〃　
　〃The　papers　are　irrelevant。　Our　policy　is　not　to　accept　grave　goods。　Besides；〃　Goddard　added　more　gently；　〃these　are　very　beautiful；　it's　true；　and　we're　honored　by　the　gesture。　But　we　have　better　examples　in　the　collection。〃　
　Better　examples？　thought　Nora。　She　had　never　seen　finer　Mimbres　bowls；　not　even　in　the　Smithsonian。　
　But　Mrs。　Henigsbaugh　was　still　digesting　the　grosser　insult。　〃Grave　goods！　How　dare　you　insinuate　they　were　looted…〃　
　Goddard　picked　up　a　bowl　and　poked　one　finger　through　the　hole　in　its　bottom。　〃This　pot　has　been　killed。〃　
　〃Killed？〃　
　〃Yes。　When　the　Mimbres　buried　a　pot　with　their　dead；　they　punched　a　hole　in　the　bottom　to　release　the　spirit　of　the　pot；　so　it　could　join　the　deceased　in　the　underworld。　Archaeologists　call　it　killing　the　pot。〃　He　replaced　the　bowl　on　the　table。　〃All　these　pots　have　been　killed。　So　you　see　they　must　have　e　from　graves；　no　matter　what　the　provenience　says。〃　
　〃You　mean　you're　going　to　turn　down　a　half…million…dollar　gift；　just　like　that？〃　the　woman　cried。　
　〃I'm　afraid　so。　I'll　have　them　carefully　crated　and　returned　to　you。〃　He　coughed　into　his　handkerchief。　〃I'm　very　sorry；　Lily。〃　
　〃I'm　sure　you　are。〃　The　woman　spun　around　and　left　the　office　abruptly；　leaving　a　faint　cloud　of　expensive　perfume　in　her　wake。　
　In　the　silence　that　followed；　Goddard　settled　onto　the　edge　of　the　table；　a　thoughtful　look　on　his　face。　〃You're　familiar　with　Mimbres　pottery？〃　he　asked。　
　〃Yes；〃　Nora　replied。　She　still　could　not　believe　he　had　turned　down　the　gift。　
　〃What　do　you　think？〃　
　〃Other　institutions　have　killed　Mimbres　pots　in　their　collections。〃　
　〃We　are　not　other　institutions；〃　Goddard　replied　in　his　soft　whisper。　〃These　pots　were　buried　by　people　who　respected　their　dead；　and　we　have　an　obligation　to　continue　that　respect。　I　doubt　Mrs。　Henigsbaugh　would　approve　of　us　digging　up　her　dear　departed　Harry。〃　He　settled　into　a　chair　behind　the　worktable。　〃I　had　a　visit　from　Dr。　Blakewood　the　other　day；　Nora。〃　
　She　stiffened。　This　was　it；　then。　
　〃He　mentioned　that　you　were　behind　in　your　projects；　and　that　he　felt　your　tenure　review　might　go　poorly。　Care　to　tell　me　about　it？〃　
　〃There's　nothing　to　tell；〃　Nora　said。　〃I'll　submit　my　resignation　whenever。〃　
　To　her　surprise；　Goddard　grinned　at　this。　〃Resignation？〃　he　asked。　〃Why　on　earth　would　you　want　to　resign？〃　
　She　cleared　her　throat。　〃There's　no　way；　in　six　months；　I'm　going　to　be　able　to　write　up　the　Rio　Puerco　and　Gallegos　Divide　projects；　and…〃　She　stopped。　
　〃And　what？〃　Goddard　asked。　
　〃Do　what　I　need　to　do；〃　she　finished。　〃So　I　might　as　well　resign　now；　and　save　you　the　trouble。〃　
　〃I　see。〃　Goddard's　g