p&c.icelimit-第7部分

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ntly　empty；　in　the　very　center　of　the　Palace。　Lloyd　glanced　to　see　how　Glinn　would　take　it。　But　the　man　was　as　inscrutable　as　ever。
　For　months　Lloyd　had　agonized　over　what　object　would　occupy　the　soaring　octagonal　space　below　…　until　the　auction　at　Christie's。　The　battling　dinosaurs；　he　had　thought；　would　make　a　perfect　centerpiece。　You　could　still　read　the　desperate　agony　of　their　final　struggle　in　the　contorted　bones。
　And　then　his　eyes　fell　on　the　table　littered　with　charts；　printouts；　and　aerial　photographs。　When　this　happened；　Lloyd　had　forgotten　all　about　the　dinosaurs。　This　would　be　the　piece　de　resistance；　the　crowning　glory　of　the　Lloyd　Museum。　Mounting　this　in　the　center　of　the　Crystal　Palace　would　be　the　proudest　moment　of　his　life。
　〃May　I　introduce　Dr。　Sam　McFarlane；〃　Lloyd　said；　turning　away　from　the　table　and　looking　at　Glinn。　〃The　museum's　retaining　his　services　for　the　duration　of　this　assignment。〃
　McFarlane　shook　Glinn's　hand。
　〃Until　last　week；　Sam　was　wandering　around　the　Kalahari　Desert　looking　for　the　Okavango　meteorite。　A　poor　use　of　his　talents。　I　think　you'll　agree　we've　found　something　much　more　interesting　for　him　to　do。〃
　He　gestured　at　Glinn。　〃Sam；　this　is　Mr。　Eli　Glinn；　president　of　Effective　Engineering　Solutions；　Inc。　Don't　let　the　dull　name　fool　you　…　it's　a　remarkable　pany。　Mr。　Glinn　specializes　in　such　things　as　raising　Nazi　subs　full　of　gold；　figuring　out　why　space　shuttles　blow　up　…　that　sort　of　thing。　Solving　unique　engineering　problems　and　analyzing　major　failures。〃
　〃Interesting　job；〃　said　McFarlane。
　Lloyd　nodded。　〃Usually；　though；　EES　steps　in　after　the　fact。　Once　things　have　gotten　fucked　up。〃　The　vulgarity；　enunciated　slowly　and　distinctly；　hung　in　the　air。　〃But　I'm　bringing　them　in　now　to　help　make　sure　a　certain　task　doesn't　get　fucked　up。　And　that　task；　gentlemen；　is　why　we're　all　here　today。〃
　He　gestured　toward　the　conference　table。　〃Sam；　I　want　you　to　tell　Mr。　Glinn　what　you've　found；　looking　at　this　data　over　the　last　few　days。〃
　〃Right　now？〃　McFarlane　asked。　He　seemed　uncharacteristically　nervous。
　〃When　else？〃
　McFarlane　glanced　over　the　table；　hesitated；　and　then　spoke。　〃What　we　have　here；〃　he　said；　〃is　geophysical　data　about　an　unusual　site　in　the　Cape　Horn　islands　of　Chile。〃
　Glinn　nodded　encouragingly。
　〃Mr。　Lloyd　asked　me　to　analyze　it。　At　first；　the　data　seemed。。。　impossible。　Like　this　tomographic　readout。〃　He　picked　it　up；　glanced　at　it；　let　it　drop。　His　eyes　swept　over　the　rest　of　the　papers；　and　his　voice　faltered。
　Lloyd　cleared　his　throat。　Sam　was　still　a　little　shaken　by　it　all；　he　was　going　to　need　some　help。　He　turned　to　Glinn。　〃Perhaps　I'd　better　bring　you　up　to　speed　on　the　history。　One　of　our　scouts　came　across　a　dealer　in　electronic　equipment　in　Punta　Arenas；　Chile。　He　was　trying　to　sell　a　rusted…out　electromagnetic　tomographic　sounder。　It's　a　piece　of　mining　survey　equipment；　made　here　in　the　States　by　DeWitter　Industries。　It　had　been　found；　along　with　a　bag　of　rocks　and　some　papers；　near　the　remains　of　a　prospector　on　a　remote　island　down　near　Cape　Horn。　On　a　whim；　my　scout　bought　it　all。　When　he　took　a　closer　look　at　the　papers　…　those　that　he　could　decipher　…　the　scout　noticed　they　belonged　to　a　man　named　Nestor　Masangkay。〃
　Lloyd's　eyes　drifted　toward　the　conference　table。　〃Before　his　death　on　the　island；　Masangkay　had　been　a　planetary　geologist。　More　specifically；　a　meteorite　hunter。　And；　up　until　about　two　years　ago；　he'd　been　the　partner　of　Sam　McFarlane　here。〃
　He　saw　McFarlane's　shoulders　stiffen。
　〃When　our　scout　learned　this；　he　sent　everything　back　here　for　analysis。　The　tomographic　sounder　had　a　floppy　disk　rusted　into　its　drive　bay。　One　of　our　technicians　managed　to　extract　the　data。　Some　of　my　people　analyzed　the　data；　but　it　was　simply　too　far　outside　the　bell　curve　for　them　to　make　much　sense　of　it。　That's　why　we　hired　Sam。〃
　McFarlane　had　turned　from　the　first　page　to　the　second；　and　then　back　again。　〃At　first　I　thought　that　Nestor　had　forgotten　to　calibrate　his　machine。　But　then　I　looked　at　the　rest　of　the　data。〃　He　dropped　the　readout；　then　pushed　the　two　weathered　sheets　aside　with　a　slow；　almost　reverent　notion。　He　began　leafing　through　the　scatter　and　removed　another　sheet。
　〃We　didn't　send　a　ground　expedition；〃　Lloyd　continued；　speaking　again　to　Glinn；　〃because　the　last　thing　we　want　to　do　is　attract　attention。　But　we　did　order　a　flyover　of　the　island。　And　that　sheet　Sam's　holding　now　is　a　dump　from　the　LOG　II　satellite　…　the　Low　Orbit　Geosurvey。〃
　McFarlane　carefully　put　down　the　data　dump。　〃I　had　a　lot　of　trouble　believing　this；〃　he　finally　said。　〃I　must　have　gone　over　it　a　dozen　times。　But　there's　no　getting　away　from　it。　It　can　mean　only　one　thing。〃
　〃Yes？〃　Glinn's　voice　was　low；　encouraging；　holding　no　trace　of　curiosity。
　〃I　think　I　know　what　Nestor　was　after。〃
　Lloyd　waited。　He　knew　what　McFarlane　was　going　to　say。　But　he　wanted　to　hear　it　again。
　〃What　we've　got　here　is　the　largest　meteorite　in　the　world。〃
　Lloyd　broke　into　a　grin。　〃Tell　Mr。　Glinn　just　how　large；　Sam。〃
　McFarlane　cleared　his　throat。　〃The　largest　meteorite　recovered　in　the　world　so　far　is　the　Ahnighito；　in　the　New　York　Museum。　It　weighs　sixty…one　tons。　This　one　weighs　four　thousand　tons。　At　an　absolute　minimum。〃
　〃Thank　you；〃　Lloyd　said；　his　frame　swelling　with　joy；　his　face　breaking　into　a　radiant　smile。　Then　he　turned　and　looked　again　at　Glinn。　The　man's　face　still　betrayed　nothing。
　There　was　a　long　moment　of　silence。　And　then　Lloyd　spoke　again；　his　voice　low　and　hoarse　with　emotion。
　〃I　want　that　meteorite。　Your　job；　Mr。　Glinn；　is　to　make　sure　I　get　it。〃
　
　New　York　City；
　June　4；　11：45　A。M。
　
　THE　LAND　Rover　jounced　its　way　down　West　Street；　the　sagging　piers　along　the　Hudson　flashing　by　the　passenger　window；　the　sky　over　Jersey　City　a　dull　sepia　in　the　noon　light。　McFarlane　braked　hard；　then　swerved　to　avoid　a　taxi　angling　across　three　lanes　to　catch　a　fare。　It　was　a　smooth；　automatic　motion。　McFarlane's　mind　was　far　away。
　He　was　remembering　the　afternoon　when　the　Zaragosa　meteorite　fell。　He'd　finished　high　school；　had　no　job　or　plans　of　one；　and　was　hiking　across　the　Mexican　desert；　Carlos　Castaneda　in　his　back　pocket。　The　sun　had　been　low；　and　he'd　been　thinking　about　finding　a　place　to　pitch　his　bedroll。　Suddenly；　the　landscape　grew　bright　around　him；　as　if　the　sun　had　emerged　from　heavy　clouds。　But　the　sky　was　already　perfectly　clear。　And　then　he'd　stopped　dead　in　his　tracks。　On　the　sandy　ground　ahead　of　him；　a　second　shadow　of　himself　had　appeared；　long　and　ragged　at　first；　but　quickly　pacting。　There　was　a　sound　of　singing。　And　then；　a　massive　explosion。　He'd　fallen　to　the　ground；　thinking　earthquake；　or　nuclear　blast；　or　Armageddon。　There　was　a　patter　of　rain。　Except　it　was　not　rain：　it　was　thousands　of　tiny　rocks　dropping　around　him。　He　picked　one　up；　a　little　piece　of　gray　stone；　covered　in　black　crust。　It　still　held　the　deep　cold　of　outer　space　inside；　despite　its　fiery　passage　through　the　atmosphere；　and　it　was　covered　with　frost。
　As　he　stared　at　the　fragment　from　outer　space；　he　suddenly　knew　what　he　wanted　to　do　with　the　rest　of　his　life。　But　that　had　been　years　ago。　Now；　he　tried　to　think　as　little　about　those　idealistic　days　as　possible。　His　eyes　strayed　to　a　locked　briefcase　on　the　passenger　seat；　which　contained　Nestor　Masangkay's　battered　journal。　He　tried　to　think　as　little　as　possible　about　that；　too。
　A　light　ahead　turned　green；　and　he　made　a　turn　into　a　narrow　one…way　street。　This　was　the　meat…packing　district；　perched　at　the　uttermost　edge　of　the　West　Village。　Old　loading　docks　yawned　wide；　filled　with　burly　men　manhandling　carcasses　in　and　out　of　trucks。　Along　the　far　side　of　the　street；　as　if　to　take　advantage　of　the　proximity；　was　a　crowd　of　restaurants　with　names　like　The　Hog　Pit　and　Uncle　Billy's　Backyard。　It　was　the　antithesis　of　the　chrome…and…glass　Park　Avenue　headquarters　of　Lloyd　Holdings；　from　which　he　had　just　e。　Nice　place　for　a　corporate　presence；　McFarlane　thought；　if　you　deal　in　pork…belly　futures。　He　double…checked　the　scribbled　address　lying　on　his　dashboard。
　He　slowed；　then　guided　the　Land　Rover　to　a　stop　on　the　far　side　of　an　especially　d