preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第96部分

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ra　came　forward；　she　could　see　a　ghastly　wound：　a　red　gash　almost　two　feet　long。　Metal　retractors　had　been　set；　spreading　the　edges　of　the　wound　apart。　She　could　see　the　exposed　spinal　column；　pale　gray　amidst　the　pinks　and　reds　of　exposed　flesh。　The　wound　had　bled　freely；　red　coagulating　tributaries　that　had　flowed　down　either　side　of　the　vertical　cut；　across　the　table；　and　into　the　metal　gutters。
　Nora　knew；　even　without　drawing　back　the　sheet；　that　the　body　was　Smithback's。　She　suppressed　a　cry。
　She　tried　to　steady　herself；　remembering　what　Pendergast　had　said。　There　were　things　that　needed　to　be　done。　And　the　first　was　to　verify　that　Smithback　was　dead。
　She　took　a　step　forward；　glancing　quickly　around　the　operating　theater。　An　IV　rack　stood　beside　the　table；　its　clear　narrow　tube　snaking　down　and　disappearing　beneath　the　green　sheets。　Nearby　was　a　large　metal　box　on　wheels；　its　panel　festooned　with　tubes　and　dials…probably　a　ventilator。　Several　bloody　scalpels　sat　in　a　metal　basin。　On　a　nearby　surgical　tray　were　forceps；　sterile　sponges；　a　squirt　bottle　of　Betadine　solution。　Other　instruments　lay　in　a　scatter　on　the　gurney；　where　they　had　apparently　been　dropped　when　the　surgery　was　interrupted。
　She　glanced　at　the　head　of　the　table；　at　the　rack　of　machines　monitoring　the　vital　signs。　She　recognized　an　EKG　screen；　a　ghostly　line　of　green　tracing　a　course　from　left　to　right。　Tracing　a　heartbeat。　My　God；　she　thought　suddenly；　is　it　possible　Bill's　still　alive？
　Nora　took　a　rapid　step　forward；　reached　over　the　gaping　incision；　and　lifted　the　sheet　away　from　his　shoulders。　Smithback's　features　came　into　view：　the　familiar　tousled　hair　with　the　unrepentant　cowlick；　the　skinny　arms　and　shoulders；　the　curl　of　hair　at　the　nape　of　his　neck。　She　reached　forward　and　touched　his　neck；　felt　the　faint　pulse　of　the　carotid　artery。
　He　was　alive。　But　barely。
　Had　he　been　drugged？　What　should　she　do？　How　could　she　save　him？
　She　realized　she　was　hyperventilating；　and　struggled　to　slow　both　her　breathing　and　her　thoughts。　She　scanned　the　machines；　thinking　back　to　the　pre…med　classes　she'd　taken　in　college；　to　the　courses　in　gross　anatomy；　biological　and　forensic　anthropology　in　graduate　school；　her　brief　experience　as　a　hospital　candy　striper。
　She　quickly　moved　on　to　the　next　machine；　trying　to　frame　the　overall　situation。　The　machine　was　clearly　a　blood　pressure　monitor。　She　glanced　at　the　systolic　and　diastolic　readouts：　91　over　60。　At　least　he　had　pressure　as　well　as　pulse。　But　it　seemed　low；　too　low。　Beside　it　was　another　machine；　connected　to　a　line　leading　to　a　clip　on　Smithback's　index　finger。　Nora's　uncle　had　worn　one　of　these　when　he'd　been　in　the　hospital　a　year　before；　suffering　from　congestive　heart　failure：　it　was　a　pulse…oximeter。　It　shone　a　light　upon　the　fingernail；　and　measured　the　oxygen　saturation　of　the　blood。　The　readout　was　80。　Could　that　be　right？　She　seemed　to　recall　that　anything　less　than　95　was　cause　for　concern。
　Nora　looked　back　now　at　the　EKG　machine；　at　the　pulse　readout　in　its　lower　right　corner。　It　stood　at　125。
　Abruptly；　the　blood　pressure　meter　began　bleating　a　warning。
　She　knelt　toward　Smithback；　listening　to　his　breathing。　It　was　rapid　and　shallow；　barely　audible。
　She　straightened；　gazing　around　at　the　machines　with　a　moan　of　despair。　God；　she　had　to　do　something。　She　couldn't　move　him；　that　would　mean　certain　death。　Whatever　she　did；　she　would　have　to　do　it　here　and　now。　If　she　couldn't　help　him；　Smithback　would　die。
　She　fought　to　control　her　panic；　struggled　with　her　memory。　What　did　this　all　mean：　low　blood　pressure；　abnormally　fast　heart　rate；　low　blood　oxygen？
　Exsanguination。　She　looked　at　the　appalling　pool　of　blood　in　the　collecting　basin　at　the　bottom　of　the　table。　Smithback　was　suffering　from　massive　blood　loss。
　How　did　the　body　react　in　such　cases？　She　thought　back　to　the　distant　lectures　she'd　only　half　paid　attention　to。　First；　by　tachycardia；　as　the　heart　beat　faster　in　an　attempt　to　profuse　the　tissues　with　oxygen。　Next；　by…what　was　the　damn　term？…vasospasm。　She　quickly　stretched　out　a　hand；　felt　Smithback's　fingers。　As　she　expected；　they　were　ice　cold；　the　skin　mottled。　The　body　had　shut　down　blood　to　the　extremities　to　maximize　oxygen　in　the　critical　areas。
　The　blood　pressure　would　be　the　last　to　go。　And　Smithback's　was　already　dropping。　After　that　。　。　。
　She　did　not　want　to　think　about　what　would　happen　after　that。
　A　wave　of　sickness　passed　over　her。　This　was　insane。　She　wasn't　a　doctor。　Anything　she　did　could　easily　make　things　worse。
　She　took　a　deep　breath；　staring　at　the　raw　wound；　forcing　herself　to　concentrate。　Even　if　she　knew　how；　closing　and　suturing　the　incision　would　not　help：　the　blood　loss　was　already　too　great。　There　was　no　plasma　around　for　a　blood　transfusion；　and　had　there　been　any；　administering　a　transfusion　was　beyond　her　abilities。
　But　she　knew　that　patients　who　had　lost　a　lot　of　blood　could　be　rehydrated　with　crystalloids　or　a　saline　solution。
　She　looked　again　at　the　IV　rack　beside　the　table。　A　thousand…cc　bag　of　saline　solution　hung　from　it；　tube　drooping　down　from　the　metal　stand　and　into　the　vein　in　Smithback's　wrist。　The　stopcock　had　been　shut　off。　A　hypodermic　syringe；　half　empty；　dangled　near　the　bottom；　its　needle　inserted　into　the　tube。　She　realized　what　it　was：　a　local　monitored　anaesthetic；　probably　Versed；　given　as　a　drip　because　Versed　doesn't　last　much　more　than　five　minutes。　It　would　keep　the　victim　conscious；　but　reduce　any　resistance；　perhaps。　Why　hadn't　the　Surgeon　used　general；　or　spinal；　anesthesia　for　the　procedure？
　It　didn't　matter。　The　point　was　to　replace　Smithback's　fluids　as　quickly　as　possible；　get　his　blood　pressure　up…and　here　were　the　means　to　do　it。
　She　plucked　the　hypodermic　from　the　IV　tube　and　threw　it　across　the　room。　Then；　reaching　for　the　stopcock　at　the　base　of　the　liter　bag　of　saline；　she　turned　it　clockwise　as　far　as　it　would　go。
　It　isn't　enough；　she　thought　as　she　watched　the　solution　drip　rapidly　through　the　tube。　It's　not　enough　to　replace　the　fluid　volume。　Oh；　Jesus；　what　else　can　I　do？
　But　there　seemed　to　be　nothing　else　she　could　do。
　She　stepped　back；　helplessly；　eyes　darting　once　again　to　the　machines。　Smithback's　pulse　had　risen　to　140。　Even　more　alarmingly；　his　blood　pressure　had　dropped　to　80　over　45。
　She　leaned　toward　the　gurney；　took　Smithback's　cold；　still　hand　in　hers。
　〃Damn　you；　Bill；〃　she　whispered；　pressing　his　hand。　〃You've　got　to　make　it。　You've　got　to。〃
　She　waited；　motionless　beneath　the　lights；　her　eyes　fixed　on　the　monitors。
　
　SEVEN
　　
　IN　THE　STONE　CHAMBERS　deep　beneath　891　Riverside；　the　air　smelled　of　dust；　ancient　fungus；　and　ammonia。　Pendergast　moved　painfully　through　the　darkness；　lifting　the　hood　from　the　lantern　infrequently；　as　much　to　inspect　Leng's　cabinet　as　to　get　his　bearings。　He　paused；　breathing　hard；　at　the　center　of　a　room　full　of　glass　jars　and　specimen　trays。　He　listened　intently。　His　hyperacute　ears　picked　up　the　sound　of　Fairhaven's　stealthy　footsteps。　They　were　at　most　one；　perhaps　two　chambers　away。　There　was　so　little　time。　He　was　gravely　wounded；　without　a　weapon；　bleeding　heavily。　If　he　was　to　find　any　way　to　level　the　playing　field；　it　would　have　to　e　from　the　cabinet　itself。　The　only　way　to　defeat　Fairhaven　was　to　understand　Leng's　ultimate　project…to　understand　why　Leng　had　been　prolonging　his　life。
　He　uncovered　the　lantern　again　and　examined　the　cabinet　in　front　of　him。　The　jars　contained　dried　insects；　shimmering　with　iridescence　in　the　beam　of　light。　The　jar　was　labeled　Pseudopena　velenatus；　which　Pendergast　recognized　as　the　false　featherwing　beetle　from　the　Mato　Grosso　swamps；　a　mildly　poisonous　insect　natives　used　for　medicine。　In　the　row　below；　another　series　of　jars　contained　the　dried…up　corpses　of　deadly　Ugandan　bog　spiders　in　brilliant　purples　and　yellows。　Pendergast　moved　down　the　case；　uncloaked　the　lantern　again。　Here　were　bottle　after　bottle　of　dried　lizards：　the　harmless　albino　cave　gekko　from　Costa　Rica；　a　bottle　full　of　dried　saliva　glands　from　the　Gila　monster　of　the　Sonoran　Desert；　two　jars　full　of　the　shriveled　corpses　of　the　tiny　red…bellied　lizard　of　Australia。　Farther