js&cs.thebridge-第56部分

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　　And　then…just　for　Kirk　and　all　the　nice　folks　at　home…he　fired　his　best　wink　at　the　camera。
　　
　　MOTHERFUCKER！　Kirk　wanted　to　scream。　You　corrupt　old　worthless　motherfucking　PUKE！
　　Not　an　option。　It　wouldn't　play　on　prime　time。
　　But　that　wasn't　even　the　worst。
　　The　worst　was　that　Blake　was　right。　He　had　been　scooped；　at　the　top　echelon。　They　knew　about　the　dumping。　They　probably　knew　about　everything。　And　They　would　decide　how　it　played；　including　Kirk's　role　in　its　disclosure。
　　If　any　。。。
　　And　that　was　the　ultimate　conviction…deflator。　That　was　the　death　of　the　wind　in　his　sails。　He　didn't　even　know　what　he　was　standing　here　for　anymore；　aiming　his　camera　at　this　fucking　guy。　He　didn't　know　why　he　didn't　just　go　home。
　　Until　Blake　winked　at　him。
　　There　was　something　obscene　about　that　wink。　Kirk　thought　a　second；　then　decided　that；　yes；　obscene　was　the　best　word　to　describe　it。　This　was　a　man　who　was　too　smug　for　words；　a　man　who　knew　he　could　not　be　beaten。
　　To　Kirk；　this　was　utterly　unacceptable。
　　He　started　to　think　what　if　I　nuke　this　guy？　Does　anyone　else　have　a　scoop　on　THAT？　It　was　a　liberating　proposition。
　　He　resolved；　in　that　instant；　to　see　it　through。
　　〃So；〃　he　said；　〃you're　aware　of　the　dumping。〃
　　Blake　looked　grave。　〃We're　still　awaiting　reports　of　…〃
　　〃And　you're　aware　of　the　accusations　against　Paradise　Waste。〃
　　〃Allegations　are　being　investigated　…〃　Blake　began。
　　〃Given　all　that；〃　Kirk　interrupted；　〃how　do　you　feel　about　Harold　Leonard's　death？〃
　　〃Well；　I　。。。　〃　Blake　began；　and　then　stopped。
　　And　it　was　an　utterly　beautiful　moment；　because　it　was　clear　that　Blake　didn't　know　which　way　to　go　on　this　sensitive　issue。　Did　he　know？　Did　he　not　know？　What　should　he　say？
　　This　confusion　only　took　a　second　to　resolve。
　　But；　on　tape；　it　was　one　glorious　second　indeed。
　　
　　〃The　entire　business　munity　deeply　mourns　Harold　Leonard's　passing；〃　Blake　began；　recovering。　Damn！　he　thought；　his　stomach　sinking。
　　〃The　business　munity　hasn't　heard　about　Leonard's　death　yet；〃　Bogarde　countered。　〃No　one　has。　How　did　you？〃
　　Bastard！　Blake　thought；　stomach　sinking　once　again。
　　〃Where　do　you　get　your　information？〃　Kirk　pressed。　〃How　do　you　know　about　Leonard's　death？〃
　　〃I；　uh　。。。　〃　he　blurted；　wanting　nothing　more　than　to　kill　the　nosy　little　shit。
　　Kirk　was　wailing　now。　〃The　owner/operator　of　the　area's　leading　hazardous　waste　disposal　firm　drops　dead　in　the　middle　of　a　toxic　waste　incident；　so　to　speak…an　incident　in　which　he's　alleged　to　have　played　a　vital　part。　Doesn't　it　make　sense　to　speculate　on　the　possible　causes　of　that　death？〃
　　Blake　caught　himself　showing　teeth。　〃If　you're　suggesting　…〃
　　〃How　do　you　respond　to　allegations　that　you　are　directly　tied　to　Harold　Leonard's　death；　Mr。　Blake？〃
　　At　which　point；　Blake　could　take　no　more。　No　more　smiling　for　the　camera。　No　more　woollying　up　for　the　flock。　His　life　here　was　over；　and　he　had　a　plane　to　catch。
　　But　he　was　a　professional；　and　old　habits　died　hard。　He　fell　back　on　the　one　thing　that　he　knew　would　work。　That；　no　matter　how　it　looked；　could　do　nothing　but　work。
　　The　oldest　trick　in　the　book。
　　〃No　ment；〃　he　said。
　　
　　〃What　are　you　trying　to　hide；　Mr。　Blake？〃　Kirk　pressed　him　as　Blake　clambered　into　his　car　and　slammed　the　door。　〃What　are　you　afraid　of？〃　as　Blake　threw　the　car　into　gear　and　started　to　back　out　of　the　driveway。
　　Kirk　stepped　directly　into　the　path　of　the　car；　the　camera　still　running。
　　〃WHAT　ARE　YOU　AFRAID　OF；　MR。　BLAKE？？〃　Kirk　bellowed；　mostly　for　posterity　and　his　own　satisfaction。　Behind　the　deep　window　tint；　Blake's　shadowy　silhouette　hunkered　down　and　threw　the　car　into　drive。　Kirk　scuttled　around　to　the　front　of　the　car；　cutting　off　the　escape　route。
　　〃WHAT　ARE　YOU　AFRAID　OF？〃　he　yelled。　Blake　gunned　the　engine；　threatening　to　run　right　over　him。　Kirk　zoomed　in　on　the　part　of　the　shadow　where　Blake's　face　would　be。　The　camera　ate　it　up　like　candy。
　　Then　Blake　threw　the　car　into　reverse　and　hightailed　it　out　of　the　driveway；　spitting　gravel　every　inch　of　the　way。　Blake's　car　backed　into　the　street；　wheeled　around；　and　took　off　with　a　wonderfully　cinematic　little　screech。
　　Kirk；　of　course；　had　it　all　on　tape。
　　Now　all　that　remained　was　one　nagging　fact：　the　odds　against　Laura　broadcasting　this　footage。　Particularly　the　way　Tom's　name　kept　ing　up；　from　a　'PAL　standpoint；　it　was　probably　doomed。
　　〃But　it's　a　big　wide　world　out　there；〃　he　muttered　out　loud。　〃And　somebody's　gonna　want　to　know。〃
　　Kirk　shut　the　camera　off　and　jogged　down　the　slope　to　his　car。　With　a　little　help　and　a　minimum　of　interference；　this　could　be　edited　down　to　fighting　weight　in　less　than　half　an　hour。
　　And　then。　God　help　you；　motherfucker；　he　vowed；　watching　Blake's　exhaust　dissipate　into　the　air。　You're　gonna　fry。
　　It　was　twenty　minutes　to　three。
　　
　　
　　　Forty…One
　　　
　　The　reactor　would　not　stay　down。
　　The　plant　buzzed　like　a　colony　of　warrior　ants。　Checking　valves。　Looking　for　leaks。
　　Looking　for　miracles。
　　PEMA　wasn't　answering；　the　NRC　was　on　callback。　So　what？　They　all　knew　that　in　case　of　emergency　they　were　effectively　on　their　own。　Personalities　subsumed　to　habit。　To　training。　To　desperate　fatal　professionalism。
　　As　the　relentless　brazz　of　the　neutron　alarm　bored　a　hole　into　them　like　a　soldering　iron　on　their　souls　。。。
　　〃Jesus；　I　can't　stand　it；〃　Henkel　said；　his　voice　climbing。
　　〃Put　a　lid　on　it！〃　Sykes　ordered；　as　he　turned　to　Jenkel。　〃Is　pressure　backing　off　any？〃　he　asked。
　　〃Nothing　you'd　want　to　write　home　about；〃　Jenkel　said；　his　voice　perfectly　level。　〃We're　running　out　of　headroom　here；　boss。〃　Rorschach…patterns　of　sweat　stained　the　back　of　his　shirt。
　　〃Goddammit；〃　Sykes　muttered；　and　ran　a　hand　through　his　scrub　of　hair。　It　was　getting　thinner　by　the　second。
　　Along　with　their　chances　for　survival。
　　They　worked　under　the　gun：　trying　not　to　think　of　their　families；　or　the　whole　world　that　lived　and　breathed　outside；　the　world　that　hung　in　the　balance。　They　opened　up　the　auxiliary　feed　valves　and　flooded　the　core　with　superborated　water　at　a　rate　of　over　two　hundred　gallons　a　minute。
　　And　the　power　stayed　up　。。。
　　They　vented　the　steam　from　the　turbines；　dumping　it　into　the　condenser　to　feed　back　into　the　system。
　　And　the　power　stayed　up　。。。
　　The　reactor　song　was　growing；　getting　louder　by　the　minute。　By　two…forty　they　could　hear　it　without　the　microphone；　a　subsonic　drone　that　resonated　in　their　bones；　filled　them　with　an　oil　slick　of　dread。
　　At　two　forty…five；　the　first　neutron　alarm　went　off；　joining　the　chorus。
　　They　increased　the　auxiliary　feed。　Two　hundred　and　forty　gallons　a　minute。　Two　hundred　and　fifty。
　　And　the　power　stayed　up　。。。
　　They　leeched　off　more　steam；　fed　more　water。　Two　fifty。　Two　seventy…five。　They　topped　out　at　three　hundred　gallons　a　minute。　The　auxiliaries　could　not　keep　up　indefinitely。　The　steam　generators　were　drying　out；　making　it　very　difficult　to　remove　the　heat。
　　They　were　running　out　of　options。
　　And　the　song　was　getting　stronger。
　　As　the　power　stayed　up。
　　By　the　time　they　started　the　bleed　and　feed；　they　knew　they　were　fucked。
　　Bleed　and　feed。　A　last…ditch　effort　to　cool　a　hot　core。　Bleed　off　high…pressure　steam　by　blowing　it　into　the　containment　vessel；　then　turn　on　the　condensers　and　feed　it　back　into　the　loop。　Voila！　Instant　closed　system；　secondary　coolant　path。　Crude　but　effective。
　　But　。。。
　　What　if　。。。　：　the　nagging　footnote　to　their　strategy。　What　if　the　reactor　doesn't　cooperate？　it　asked。　What　if　the　coolant　suddenly　got　ambitious；　got　greedy；　each　molecule　deciding　to　absorb　more　than　its　fair　share　of　neutrons；　so　that　it　became　unstable　beyond　reason；　like　a　drunk　on　a　bender。　What　if　the　wild　water　heated　the　core　to　the　point　where　the　bleed　pumps　couldn't　pump　anymore；　couldn't　keep　up　with　the　pressure　as　the　superheating　fuel　element　boiled　the　water　away　。。。
　　Deep　in　their　hermetically　sealed　world；　the　reactor　crew　did　their　jobs；　quashing　stray　thoughts　of　wives　and　husbands；　of　kids　and　dogs　and　tidy　little　homes　with　yards　to