p&c.icelimit-第51部分

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　Puppup　cackled　unpleasantly。　〃Of　course　not。　No　more　than　Fuegia　Basket　was　mine。〃
　A　gust　of　bitter　Wind　tore　at　Glinn's　collar。　He　glanced　over　at　Puppup。　〃How　did　you　get　the　ring　then？〃
　〃With　us　Yaghans；　so　many　died　that　the　last　one　left　inherited　the　lot。　That's　how　I　got　the　bonnet　and　the　ring；　and　just　about　everything　else。〃　Puppup　continued　gazing　at　Glinn　in　a　bemused　way。
　〃What　happened　to　it　all？〃
　〃Sold　most　of　it。　Drank　the　proceeds。〃
　Glinn；　startled　again　at　the　directness　of　the　response；　realized　he　hadn't　even　begun　to　understand　the　Yaghan。　〃When　this　is　over；〃　the　old　man　added；　〃you'll　have　to　take　me　with　you；　wherever　you're　going。　I　can't　go　back　home　again。〃
　〃Why　not？〃　But　even　as　he　asked　the　question；　Glinn　realized　he　already　knew　the　answer。
　
　Rolvaag；
　11：20　P。M。
　
　MCFARLANE　WALKED　down　the　blue…carpeted　corridor　of　the　lower　bridge　deck。　He　was　bone　tired；　yet　he　could　not　sleep。　Too　much　had　happened　for　one　day：　the　long　string　of　bizarre　discoveries；　the　deaths　of　Rochefort　and　Evans；　the　reappearance　of　the　destroyer。　Having　given　up　on　sleep；　he　found　himself　roaming　the　decks　of　the　Rolvaag　like　a　restless　apparition。
　Now　he　paused　before　a　stateroom　door。　His　feet；　unbidden；　had　brought　him　to　Amira's　cabin。　He　realized；　with　surprise；　that　he　wanted　her　pany。　Her　cynical　laugh　might　be　just　the　bracing　tonic　he　needed。　Time　spent　with　her　would　be　mercifully　free　of　chitchat　or　exhaustive　explanations。　He　wondered　if　she'd　be　interested　in　a　cup　of　coffee　in　the　wardroom；　or　a　game　of　pool。
　He　knocked　on　the　door。　〃Rachel？〃
　There　was　no　response。　She　couldn't　be　sleeping　…　Amira　claimed　she　had　never　gone　to　bed　before　3　A。M。　in　the　last　ten　years。
　He　knocked　again。　The　unlatched　door　eased　open　under　the　pressure　of　his　knuckles。
　〃Rachel？　It's　Sam。〃　He　stepped　inside；　curious　despite　himself；　he　had　never　been　inside　Amira's　cabin。　Instead　of　the　disarray；　the　confused　riot　of　sheets　and　cigar　ash　and　clothes　he　expected；　the　place　looked　fastidiously　clean。　The　sofa　and　chairs　were　neatly　arranged；　the　shelves　of　scientific　manuals　carefully　ordered。　For　a　moment　he　wondered　if　she　was　even　living　there；　until　he　saw　a　litter　of　broken　peanut　shells；　lying　in　a　semicircle　underneath　the　puter　table。
　He　smiled　fondly　as　he　stepped　toward　the　table。　His　eyes　strayed　to　the　screen　and　were　arrested　by　the　sight　of　his　own　last　name。
　A　two…page　document　stood　in　the　nearby　printer。　Snatching　the　top　page；　he　began　to　read。
　EES　CONFIDENTIAL
　From：　R。　Amira
　To：　E。　Glinn
　Subject：　S。　McFarlane
　
　Since　the　last　report；　the　subject　has　bee　increasingly　engrossed　with　the　meteorite　and　its　inprehensibility。　He　is　still　ambivelent　about　the　project；　and　about　Lloyd　himself；　he　has　also　been　drawn　in；　almost　against　his　will；　by　the　problems　the　meteorite　poses。　There　is　little　talk　between　us　of　anything　else　…　at　least；　until　what　happened　at　the　site　this　morning。　I　am　not　sure　he　is　being　pletely　forthright　with　me；　but　I'm　not　fortable　pressing　the　issue　any　farther。
　After　the　meteorite　was　first　uncovered；　I　initiated　a　conversation　about　his　earlier　theory　about　the　existence　of　interstellar　meteorites。　While　reluctant　at　first；　he　soon　became　enthusiastic；　explaining　how　the　theory　fits　the　Desolacion　meteorite。　However；　he　felt　a　need　for　secrecy　and　asked　me　not　to　share　his　suspicions　with　anyone。　As　you　must　know　from　this　morning's　discussion；　his　belief　in　its　interstellar　nature　is；　if　anything；　growing。　
　
　There　was　a　closing　of　a　door；　the　sharp　intake　of　breath。　McFarlane　turned。　Amira　stood　with　her　back　to　the　cabin　door。　She　was　still　dressed　for　dinner　in　a　knee…length　black　dress；　but　she　had　thrown　her　parka　over　her　shoulders　for　the　trip　to　the　missary。　She　was　in　the　act　of　pulling　a　newly　purchased　bag　of　peanuts　from　one　of　the　pockets。　She　glanced　at　him；　then　at　the　paper　in　his　hand；　and　became　still。
　For　a　moment；　they　simply　looked　at　each　other。　Slowly；　as　if　by　its　own　accord；　the　bag　of　peanuts　dropped　back　into　the　pocket　of　the　parka。
　More　than　anything　else；　McFarlane　felt　a　bleakness　spread　through　him。　It　was　as　if；　after　all　the　recent　shocks；　he　could　find　no　more　reserves　of　emotion　to　draw　on。
　〃Well；〃　he　said　finally。　〃Looks　like　I'm　not　the　only　Judas　on　this　boat。〃
　Amira　returned　his　gaze；　her　face　pale。　〃You　always　break　into　other　people's　rooms　and　read　their　private　papers？〃
　McFarlane　smiled　coldly。　He　flipped　the　paper　onto　the　desk。　〃Sorry；　but　this　work　is　unsatisfactory。　‘Ambivalent'　is　misspelled。　Eli's　not　going　to　paste　a　star　by　your　name　today。〃　He　stepped　toward　the　door　that　was　still　blocked　by　her　body。　〃Please　step　aside。〃
　Amira　faltered；　dropped　her　eyes；　but　she　did　not　step　away。　〃Wait；〃　she　said。
　〃I　said；　step　aside。〃
　She　nodded　toward　the　printer。　〃Not　until　you　read　the　rest。〃
　A　flush　of　rage　coursed　through　him　at　this；　and　he　raised　his　hand　to　brush　her　aside。　Then；　mastering　himself；　he　willed　his　hand　back　down。　〃I've　read　quite　enough；　thanks。　Now　get　the　hell　out　of　my　way。〃
　〃Read　the　rest。　Then　you　can　go。〃　Amira　blinked；　licked　her　lips。　She　stood　her　ground。
　He　held　her　gaze　for　a　minute；　perhaps　two。　Then　he　turned；　reached　for　the　rest　of　the　report；　and　read。
　As　it　happens；　I　agree　with　him。　The　evidence　is　strong；　if　not　irrefutable；　that　this　meteorite　came　from　far　beyond　the　solar　system。　Sam's　theory　has　been　vindicated。　Furthermore；　I　see　no　evidence　of　obsession　in　Sam；　or　anything　else　that　could　pose　a　threat　to　the　expedition。　Just　the　opposite：　the　meteorite　seems　to　be　awakening　the　scientist　in　him。　I've　seen　less　of　the　sarcastic；　defensive；　and　sometimes　mercenary　side　of　him　that　was　so　evident　in　the　beginning；　this　has　been　replaced　by　a　voracious　curiosity；　a　profound　desire　to　understand　this　bizarre　rock。
　And　so　this　will　be　my　third；　and　final；　report。　I　can't　in　good　conscience　continue　to　provide　these　reports。　If　I　sense　problems；　I'll　report　them。　I'd　do　that　in　any　case　as　a　loyal　EES　employee。　The　fact　is；　this　meteorite　is　stranger　than　any　of　us　could　have　possibly　foreseen。　It　may　even　be　dangerous。　I　can't　both　watch　him　and　work　with　him。　You　asked　me　to　be　Sam's　assistant。　And　that's　just　what　I　plan　to　be　…　for　his　good；　my　good；　and　the　good　of　the　mission。
　
　McFarlane　pulled　the　chair　away　from　the　puter　table　and　eased　down　into　it；　the　paper　crackling　in　his　hand。　He　felt　his　anger　draining　away；　leaving　a　confused　welter　of　feelings。
　For　what　seemed　like　a　long　time；　neither　one　spoke。　McFarlane　could　hear　the　distant　rush　of　water；　feel　the　faint　thrumming　of　the　engines。　Then　he　looked　up　at　her。
　〃It　was　Eli's　idea；〃　she　said。　〃You　were　Lloyd's　man；　not　his。　You　had　a　questionable　history。　And　at　that　first　meeting；　that　thing　with　the　sandwich；　you　showed　yourself　to　be　a　bit　unpredictable。　Unpredictable　people　make　him　nervous。　So　he　told　me　to　keep　an　eye　on　you。　Write　regular　reports。
　McFarlane　sat；　watching　her　in　silence。
　〃I　didn't　like　the　idea。　At　first　it　was　being　your　assistant　that　really　got　to　me　most；　though。　I　just　thought　the　reports　would　be　a　pain。　But　I　had　no　idea　…　no　idea　…　how　hard　they　would　actually　be。　I　felt　like　a　real　shit　every　time　I　sat　down　to　write　one。〃　She　sighed　deeply；　a　catch　sounding　in　her　throat。　〃These　last　couple　of　days。。。　I　don't　know。〃　She　shook　her　head。　〃And　then；　writing　this　one。。。　I　just　realized　I　couldn't　do　it　anymore。　Not　even　for　him。〃
　She　abruptly　fell　silent。　She　dropped　her　eyes　from　his　face　to　the　carpet。　Despite　her　efforts；　he　saw　her　chin　tremble。　A　single　tear　charted　an　erratic　course　down　her　cheek。
　Quickly；　McFarlane　rose　from　his　chair　and　came　to　her。　He　drew　the　tear　away。　She　put　her　hands　around　his　neck　and　drew　him　toward　her；　burying　her　face　in　his　neck。
　〃Oh；　Sam；〃　she　whispered。　〃I'm　so　sorry。〃
　〃It's　all　right。〃
　A　second　tear　began　to　furrow　down　her　cheek。　He　bent　to　brush　it　away；　but　she　turned　her　face　to　meet　his　and　their　lips　joined　instead。
　With　a　soft　moan；　she　pulled　him　more　tightly　to　her。　McFarlane；　drawn　forward　over　the　sofa；　felt　the　press