atlantis.found-第99部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


was　the　prospect　of　driving　into　a　crevasse　that　was　impossible　to　see　before　it　was　too　late。　The　sane　thing　to　do　was　to　slow　the　Snow　Cruiser　to　a　snail's　crawl　and　send　Giordino　ahead　to　test　the　ice；　but　besides　risking　his　friend's　life；　it　would　have　cost　them　precious　time；　and　time　was　an　extravagance　they　did　not　have。　His　numbed　right　foot　could　no　longer　move　up　and　down　on　the　accelerator　pedal；　so　he　kept　it　fully　pressed　down；　frozen　in　place　to　the　floorboard。
　　　　　Their　drive　across　that　deceptive　and　treacherous　ice　field　had　turned　into　a　freezing　nightmare。
　　　　　There　was　no　point　of　no　return。　It　was　finish　the　mission　or　die。　The　shrieking　fury　of　the　ice　storm　showed　no　signs　of　diminishing。　Pitt　wiped　the　thickening　veneer　of　ice　from　the　instrument　panel　at　last。　The　temperature　gauge　needles　were　slowly　dropping　out　of　the　red　now。　But　if　he　and　Giordino　wanted　to　reach　their　destination　without　further　interruption；　the　needles　would　have　to　fall　another　twenty　degrees。
　　　　　He　was　a　blind　man　in　a　world　of　the　blind。　He　was　even　denied　a　sense　of　touch。　His　hands　and　legs　soon　went　numb；　with　all　feeling　lost。　His　body　no　longer　felt　a　part　of　him　and　refused　to　respond　to　his　mands。　He　found　it　next　to　impossible　to　breathe。　The　bitter　cold　seared　his　lungs。　The　thickening　of　the　blood；　the　chill　seeping　through　his　skin；　the　stinging　pain　that　was　torturing　his　flesh；　despite　the　insulation　of　his　clothing；　drained　his　strength。　He　never　knew　a　man　could　freeze　to　death　so　fast。　It　required　a　concentrated　effort　of　willpower　not　to　give　in　and　order　Giordino　to　close　the　door。　His　bitterness　against　failing　was　as　strong　as　the　terrible　wind。
　　　　　Pitt　had　stared　the　grim　reaper　in　the　face　before；　and　he　had　spat　on　him。　As　long　as　he　was　still　breathing　and　able　to　think　straight；　he　still　had　a　chance。　If　only　the　wind　would　die。　He　knew　that　storms　could　vanish　as　quickly　as　they　were　born。　Why　can't　this　one　die？　he　implored　no　one　but　himself。　A　horrible　emptiness　settled　over　him。　His　vision　was　darkening　around　the　edges　of　his　eyes；　and　still　those　vexing　needles　hadn't　wavered　into　the　normal　temperature　range。
　　　　　He　did　not　exist　by　any　preposterous　illusion　of　hope。　He　believed　in　himself　and　in　Giordino　and　in　luck。　The　Almighty　could　e　along；　too；　if　He　was　agreeable。　Pitt　had　no　wish　to　wele　the　great　beyond　with　open　arms。　He'd　always　believed　he'd　have　to　be　dragged　away　by　either　angels　or　demons；　fighting　to　the　end。　The　jury　was　still　out　on　whether　his　good　virtues　outweighed　the　bad。　The　only　undeniable；　uncontested　reality　was　that　he　had　little　to　say　in　the　matter　and　was　within　minutes　of　freezing　into　a　block　of　ice。
　　　　　If　there　was　a　purpose　for　adversity；　Pitt　was　damned　if　he　knew　what　it　was。　Somewhere　beyond　it　all；　he　stepped　from　being　a　mere　mortal　to　a　man　outside　himself。　His　mind　was　still　clear；　still　capable　of　weighing　the　odds　and　the　consequences。　He　pushed　back　the　dark　nightmare　that　was　closing　in　on　him。　Suffering　and　foreboding　no　longer　had　meaning　for　him。　He　refused　to　accept　an　inevitable　end。　Any　thought　of　dying　became　abhorrent　and　stillborn。
　　　　　He　almost　gave　way　to　an　overpowering　instinct　to　throw　in　the　towel　and　surrender；　but　steeled　himself　to　hold　out　another　ten　minutes。　There　was　never　a　doubt　in　his　mind　that　he　and　Giordino　would　see　it　through　together；　nor　was　there　a　moment　of　panic。　Save　the　engines；　save　himself；　and　then　save　the　world。　That　was　the　line　of　priority。　He　rubbed　the　frost　from　his　glasses　and　saw　that　the　needles　on　the　gauge　were　falling　faster　and　rapidly　approaching　their　normal　operating　temperature。
　　　　　Twenty　more　seconds；　he　told　himself；　then　another　twenty。　What　was　the　old　ditty；　〃Ninety…nine　bottles　of　beer　on　the　wall〃？　Then　came　relief　and　exultation；　as　the　temperature　gauges　registered　nearly　normal　again。
　　　　　There　was　no　need　to　shout　through　the　hatch　down　to　Giordino　in　the　engine　partment。　The　little　Italian　sensed　when　the　time　was　ripe　by　placing　a　hand　momentarily　on　the　top　of　a　radiator。　He　slammed　shut　the　door；　sealing　off　the　frightful　force　of　wind　and　ice；　but　not　before　throwing　the　interior　heater　switches　as　high　as　they　could　go。　Then　he　rushed　up　to　the　control　cabin　and　roughly　pulled　Pitt　from　behind　the　steering　wheel。
　　　　　〃You've　done　enough　for　the　cause；〃　he　said；　troubled　at　seeing　Pitt　so　close　to　death　from　hypothermia。　〃I'll　help　you　down　to　the　engine　partment　where　you　can　warm　up。〃
　　　　　〃The　Snow　Cruiser。　。　。〃　Pitt　barely　murmured　through　frozen　lips。　〃Don't　let　it　wander。〃
　　　　　〃Don't　burden　yourself。　I　can　drive　this　mechanical　mastodon　as　well　as　you。〃
　　　　　After　setting　Pitt　on　the　floor　between　the　big　diesels　where　he　could　get　warm　again；　Giordino　climbed　back　into　the　icy　control　cabin；　sat　behind　the　steering　wheel；　and　engaged　first　gear。　Within　sixty　seconds；　he　had　the　grand　vehicle　boring　through　the　storm　once　again　at　twenty…four　miles　an　hour。
　　　　　The　consistent　knock　of　the　diesels；　running　smoothly　once　again；　was　more　than　music　to　Pitt's　ears；　it　was　a　symbol　of　renewed　hope。　Never　in　his　entire　life　had　anything　ever　felt　so　good　as　the　warmth　that　emanated　from　the　engines　and　was　absorbed　by　his　half…frozen　body。　His　blood　soon　thinned　and　circulated　again；　and　he　allowed　himself　he　luxury　of　simply　relaxing　for　half　an　hour　while　Giordino　held　the　Wheel。
　　　　　Almost　morbidly；　he　began　to　wonder；　had　the　special　military　force　landed？　Were　they　lost　and　dying　in　the　same　treacherous　blizzard？
　
　　　　　Painted　in　a　charcoal　gray　with　no　markings　but　a　small　American　flag　on　the　vertical　stabilizer；　the　McDonnell　Douglas　C…17　soared　above　an　ocean　of　pearl…white　clouds　blanketing　the　glaring　ice　of　Antarctica　like　a　giant；　featherless　pterodactyl　over　a　Mesozoic　landscape。
　　　　　Air　Force　Captain　Lyle　Stafford　was　quite　at　home　in　his　cockpit　office　flying　over　the　frozen　continent。　Normally；　he　flew　back　and　forth　between　Christchurch；　New　Zealand；　and　the　American　ice　stations　scattered　around　Antarctica；　transporting　scientists；　equipment；　and　supplies。　This　trip　they　had　been　abruptly　pressed　into　service　to　fly　the　hurriedly　assembled　assault　teams　to　the　Ross　Ice　Shelf　and　drop　them　over　the　Destiny　Enterprises　mining　facility。
　　　　　Stafford　looked　more　like　a　public　relations　director　than　a　pilot。　Graying　hair　neatly　trimmed；　always　ready　with　a　smile；　he　was　always　volunteering　to　help　out　Air　Force　service　and　charity　organizations。　On　most　flights；　he　read　a　book；　while　his　copilot；　Lieutenant　Robert　Brannon；　a　long…boned　Californian　whose　knees　came　halfway　to　his　chin　when　he　was　seated；　tended　the　controls　and　instruments。　Almost　reluctantly；　he　glanced　from　his　book；　The　Einstein　Papery　by　Craig　Dirgo；　out　his　side　window　and　then　at　the　Global　Positioning　System　display。
　　　　　〃Time　to　go　back　to　work；〃　he　announced；　putting　aside　the　book。　He　turned　and　smiled　at　Major　Tom　Cleary；　who　sat　perched　on　a　stool　behind　the　pilots。　〃It's　almost　time　to　begin　prebreathing；　Major；　and　acclimate　yourselves　to　the　oxygen。〃
　　　　　Cleary　stared　through　the　windshield　over　the　pilot's　heads；　but　all　he　saw　was　cloud　cover。　He　assumed　that　a　corner　of　the　Ross　Ice　Shelf　was　looming　unseen　ahead　and　below　the　aircraft。　〃How's　my　time？〃
　　　　　Stafford　nodded　at　the　instrument　panel。　〃We'll　be　over　your　release　point　in　one　hour。　Are　your　men　ready　and　eager？〃
　　　　　〃Ready；　maybe；　but　I'd　hardly　describe　them　as　eager。　They've　all　jumped　from　a　jet　aircraft　at　thirty…five　thousand　feet　at　one　time　or　another；　but　not　while　it　was　traveling　at　four　hundred　miles　an　hour。　We're　used　to　feeling　the　aircraft　slow　down　before　the　ramp　lowers。〃
　　　　　〃Sorry　I　can't　bring　you　in　closer；　slower；　and　lower；〃　said　Stafford　sympathetically。　〃The　trick　is　for　you　and　your　men　to　land　on　the　ice　without　your　chutes　being　discovered　in　the　air。　My　orders　state　in　no　uncertain　terms　for　me　to　make　my　routine　supply　run　to　McMurdo　Sound　in　my　normal　flight　pattern。　I've　shaved　it　as　close　as　I　dare　without　raising　suspicion。　As　it　is；　you'll　have　to　glide　nearly　ten　miles　to　your　target　zone　just　outside　the　security