p&c.icelimit-第87部分

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er　one　hundred　feet；　and　they　were　moving　as　powerfully　as　a　freight　train。　These　were　the　waves　that　circled　the　globe；　pushed　by　the　winds；　never　hitting　shore；　building；　ever　building。　These　were　the　waves　of　the　Screaming　Sixties；　the　biggest　seas　on　earth。　Only　the　sheer　size　of　the　Rolvaag　was　saving　it　now。　As　the　ship　rose　on　each　wave；　the　winds　climbed　to　a　gibbering　wail。　At　the　peak　of　the　wave　the　whole　superstructure　would　vibrate　and　hum；　as　if　the　winds　were　attempting　to　decapitate　the　ship。　Then　there　would　be　a　shudder；　and　the　ship　would　heel；　slowly；　achingly。　The　wave…by…wave　battle　was　recorded　by　the　inclinometer：　ten；　twenty；　twenty…five　degrees。　As　the　angle　became　critical；　all　eyes　stared　at　this　normally　insignificant　instrument。　Then　the　crest　of　the　wave　would　pass　and　Britton　would　wait　for　the　ship　to　recover：　the　most　terrible　moment　of　all。　But　each　time　the　ship　did　recover；　first　imperceptibly；　then　more　quickly；　gradually　righting　into　an　equally　unnerving　overcorrection；　as　its　great　inertia　caused　it　to　lean　momentarily　against　the　wave。　It　would　slide　into　the　next　trough；　shielded　by　the　surrounding　mountains　of　water；　into　an　eerie　stillness　almost　more　frightening　than　the　storm　above。　The　process　would　repeat　again；　and　again；　in　an　endless；　cruel　cadence。　Throughout　all　this；　there　was　nothing　she　…　or　any　of　them　…　could　do。
　Britton　turned　on　the　forward　superstructure　spotlights　to　check　the　Rolvaag's　maindeck。　Most　of　the　containers　and　several　davits　had　been　torn　from　their　moorings　and　swept　overboard；　but　the　mechanical　door　and　the　tank　hatches　were　solid。　The　vessel　was　still　taking　in　water　from　the　shell　hole　near　the　king　posts；　but　the　bilge　pumps　were　pensating。　The　Rolvaag　was　a　well…built；　seaworthy　vessel；　it　would　be　weathering　the　storm　nicely　…　were　it　not　for　the　monstrous　weight　in　her　belly。
　By　seven；　the　storm　had　reached　Force　15；　with　gusts　up　to　one　hundred　knots。　When　the　ship　topped　a　wave；　the　force　of　the　wind　ing　through　the　bridge　threatened　to　suck　them　out　into　the　darkness。　No　storm　could　keep　up　this　kind　of　violence　for　long。　Soon；　Britton　hoped；　it　would　begin　to　break。　It　had　to。
　She　kept　checking　the　surface　scopes；　irrationally；　looking　for　a　contact　that　might　indicate　a　rescue。　But　they　were　streaked　with　grass；　giving　mostly　sea　return。　At　the　crest　of　each　wave；　they　cleared　long　enough　to　show　a　growler　field　…　small　bergs　…　about　eight　miles　ahead。　Between　the　ship　and　the　growler　field　lay　a　single　ice　island；　smaller　than　those　they　had　passed　but　several　miles　long　nevertheless。　As　the　ship　was　pushed　deeper　into　the　ice；　the　waves　would　mitigate；　but；　of　course；　then　there　would　be　more　ice　to　deal　with。
　The　GPS；　at　least；　was　steady　and　clear。　They　were　about　one　hundred　and　fifty　miles　northwest　of　the　South　Shetland　Islands；　an　uninhabited　row　of　fanglike　mountains　sticking　up　from　the　Antarctic　seas；　surrounded　by　reefs　and　ripping　currents。　Beyond　lay　the　Bransfield　Strait；　and；　beyond　that；　pack　ice　and　the　brutal　coast　of　Antarctica。　As　they　drew　closer　to　the　coast；　the　seas　would　drop　but　the　currents　would　get　worse。　One　hundred　and　fifty　miles。。。　if　South　Georgia　could　launch　a　rescue　at　6　A。M。。。。　It　all　depended　on　that　thing　down　in　the　hold。
　She　thought　of　asking　Glinn　for　a　progress　report。　But　then　she　realized　she　did　not　want　a　report。　Glinn　had　been　as　silent　as　she；　and　she　wondered　just　what　was　going　through　his　mind。　She；　at　least；　could　read　the　movement　of　the　ship。　For　the　others　it　must　be　simple；　sheer　terror。
　The　ship　rolled；　a　frightening　roll。　But　as　the　roll　approached　the　apex；　she　felt　an　odd　hitch；　a　catch；　to　it。　At　the　same　time；　Glinn　raised　his　radio　to　his　ear；　listening　intently。　He　saw　her　look。
　〃It's　Garza；〃　he　said。　〃I　can't　hear　him　over　the　storm。〃
　She　turned　to　Howell。　〃Patch　him　through。　Maximum　gain。〃
　Suddenly　Garza's　voice　boomed　through　the　bridge。　〃Eli！〃　he　was　calling。　The　amplification　gave　the　panic　in　his　voice　a　ragged；　desperate　edge。　In　the　background；　Britton　could　hear　the　groan　and　screech　of　tortured　metal。
　〃Here。〃
　〃We're　losing　the　primary　crosspieces！〃
　〃Stick　with　it。〃
　Britton　wondered　at　Glinn's　calm；　steady　voice。
　The　ship　began　to　heel　again。
　〃Eli；　the　whole　thing's　unraveling　faster　than　we　can　keep　up　with　…　〃　The　ship　heeled　farther；　and　another　scream　of　metal　drowned　out　Garza's　voice。
　〃Manuel；〃　said　Glinn。　〃Rochefort　knew　what　he　was　doing　when　he　designed　that　web。　It's　much　stronger　than　you　think。　Take　it　one　step　at　a　time。〃
　Still　the　ship　slanted。
　〃Eli；　the　rock　…　It's　moving！　I　can't　…　〃　The　radio　went　dead。
　The　ship　paused；　shuddered　throughout　its　frame；　then　slowly　began　to　right　itself。　Britton　felt　that　little　hitch　again；　like　a　pause；　almost　as　if　the　ship　had　caught　on　something　for　a　moment。
　Glinn　kept　his　eyes　to　the　speaker。　After　a　moment；　it　crackled　once　again。　Garza's　voice　came　back　on。　〃Eli？　Are　you　there？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃I　think　the　thing　shifted　slightly；　but　it　came　back　into　place。〃
　Glinn　almost　smiled。　〃Manuel；　do　you　see　how　you're　overreacting？　Don't　panic。　Focus　on　the　critical　points　and　let　the　others　go。　Triage　the　situation。　There's　a　tremendous　amount　of　redundancy　built　into　that　web。　Double　overage。　Remember　that。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　The　ship　began　another　roll；　a　slow；　screeching；　agonizing　motion。　Again　she　felt　the　pause；　and　then　she　felt　something　new；　different　in　the　motion。。。　Something　ugly。　Britton　looked　at　Glinn；　then　at　Lloyd。　She　could　see　that　they　hadn't　noticed。　When　the　meteorite　had　moved；　she　could　feel　how　it　affected　the　entire　ship。　The　massive　Rolvaag　had　almost　pivoted　on　the　crest　of　that　last　wave。　She　wondered　if　it　was　her　imagination。　She　waited　while　the　ship　sank　down　into　the　unnatural　peace　of　the　trough；　then　began　to　rise　again。　She　turned　on　the　maindeck　lights　and　sealights：　she　wanted　to　see　the　conformation　of　the　ship　on　the　water。　It　was　rising；　shuddering　as　if　to　shake　off　its　burden；　the　heavy　black　water　surging　off　its　sides　and　out　the　scuppers。　As　they　came　up　the　thing　in　the　hold　began　to　groan　again；　slowly；　the　ship　reared　up　the　long　face　of　the　wave；　shivering　as　it　rose　into　the　wind。　The　bow　broke　through　the　topmost　b　of　water；　and　the　groaning　became　a　shriek　of　protesting　metal　and　timber；　echoing　through　the　bones　of　the　ship。　There　it　was：　the　Rolvaag　made　that　same　ugly　motion　at　the　top；　a　yaw　that　almost　became　a　pivot；　then　a　lying　back　down　in　the　water。　There　was　a　hesitation　before　it　recovered　…　and　that　was　the　worst　of　all。
　Once；　on　a　terrible　storm　off　the　Grand　Banks；　she　had　seen　a　ship　break　its　back。　The　hull　had　e　apart　with　a　horrific　noise；　black　water　had　boiled　in；　instantly　flooding　the　ship's　deepest　partments。　Nobody　had　a　chance　to　get　off：　all　were　sucked　down　into　the　deep。　It　was　a　sight　that　still　disturbed　her　sleep　to　this　day。
　She　glanced　at　Howell。　He　had　noticed　the　slow　recovery；　too：　he　was　staring　at　her；　frame　rigid；　round　eyes　white　in　a　deathly　pale　face。　She　had　never　seen　him　so　frightened。　〃Captain。。。〃　he　began；　his　voice　breaking。
　She　gestured　him　silent。　She　knew　what　he　was　going　to　say。　It　was　her　duty　to　say　it。
　She　glanced　at　Glinn。　His　face　remained　strangely　confident　and　serene。　She　had　to　look　away。　For　all　his　knowledge；　the　man　did　not　know　the　feel　of　a　ship。
　The　Rolvaag　was　on　the　verge　of　breaking　up。
　They　began　to　subside　into　another　trough；　the　wind　abruptly　dropping　to　zero。　She　took　the　opportunity　to　look　around　the　bridge：　Lloyd；　McFarlane；　Amira；　Glinn；　Howell；　Banks；　the　other　officers　of　the　watch。　All　silent。　All　watching　her。　All　waiting　for　her　to　do　something；　to　keep　them　alive。
　〃Mr。　Lloyd；〃　she　said。
　〃Yes？〃　He　stepped　over；　eager　to　help。
　This　was　going　to　be　hard。
　A　hideous　shudder　rattled　the　consoles　and　windows　as　the　ship　took　a　major　cross…swell。　When　the　sound　eased　as　the　ship　slipped　back　down；　Britton　could　breathe　again。
　〃Mr。　Lloyd；〃　she　said　again。　〃The　meteorite　must　go。〃
　
　Rolvaag；
　7：00　P。M。
　
　ON　THESE　words；　McFarlane　felt　a　queer　feeling　in　his　gut。　A　galvanic　charge　seemed　to