cyclops-第33部分

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　　　　Pitt　had　dived　on　many　shipwrecks　and　he　was　the　first　man　to　view　the　Titanic；　but　staring　at　the　lost　ghost　ship　of　legend　left　him　numb　with　an　almost　superstitious　awe。　The　knowledge　that　she　was　the　tomb　for　over　three　hundred　men　only　deepened　her　malignant　aura。
　　　　The　sunken　ship　was　lying　on　her　port　side　with　a　list　of　about　twenty…five　degrees；　her　bow　set　toward　the　north。　She　did　not　have　the　look　of　anything　that　was　supposed　to　rest　on　the　sea　floor；　and　mother　nature　had　gone　to　work　laying　a　veil　of　sediment　and　marine　organisms　over　the　steel　intruder。
　　　　The　entire　hull　and　superstructure　were　encrusted　with　sea　growth　of　every　imaginable　description　sponges；　barnacles；　flowery　anemones；　feathery　sea　ferns；　and　slender　weeds　that　gracefully　swayed　with　the　current　like　the　arms　of　dancers。　Except　for　the　distorted　bow　and　three　fallen　derricks；　the　ship　was　suprisingly　intact。
　　　　They　found　Giordino　busily　scraping　the　growth　from　a　small　section　below　the　stern　railing。　He　turned　at　their　approach　and　showed　off　his　handiwork。　He　had　exposed　the　raised　letters　that　spelled　out　Cyclops。
　　　　Pitt　glanced　at　his　orange…faced　Doxa　diver's　watch。　It　seemed　an　eternity　since　the　blimp　crashed；　but　only　nine　minutes　had　passed　from　the　moment　they　swam　out　of　the　control　car。　It　was　imperative　that　they　conserve　their　air。　They　still　had　to　search　the　wreck　and　have　enough　left　in　the　spare　tanks　for　depression。　The　safety　margin　would　be　cut　dangerously　thin。
　　　　He　checked　Jessie's　air　gauge　and　studied　her　eyes。　They　looked　clear　and　bright。　She　was　breathing　slowly　in　a　fortable　rhythm。　She　gave　him　a　thumbs…up　sign　and　then　threw　him　a　coquettish　wink。　Her　brush　with　death　in　the　Prosperteer　was　forgotten　for　the　moment。
　　　　Pitt　winked　back。　She's　actually　enjoying　this；　he　thought。
　　　　Using　hand　signals　for　munication；　the　four　of　them　fanned　out　in　a　line　above　the　fantail　and　began　prowling　her　length。　The　doors　of　the　aft　deckhouse　had　rotted　away　and　the　teak　deck　was　heavily　worm…eaten。　Any　flat　surface　was　coated　by　sediment　that　gave　the　appearance　of　a　dusty　shroud。
　　　　The　jackstaff　stood　bare；　the　United　States　ensign　having　rotted　away　long　ago。　The　two　stern　guns　pointed　aft；　mute　and　deserted。　The　twin　smokestacks　stood　like　sentries　over　the　decaying　wreckage　of　ventilators；　bollards　and　railings；　rotting　coils　of　wire　and　cable　still　hugging　rusting　winches。　Like　a　shantytown；　each　piece　of　debris　offered　a　nesting　place　for　spiny　urchins；　arrow　crabs；　and　other　creatures　of　the　sea。
　　　　Pitt　knew　from　studying　a　diagram　of　the　Cyclops'　interior　that　searching　the　stern　section　was　a　waste　of　time。　The　smokestacks　stood　over　the　engine　room　and　its　crew　quarters。　If　they　were　to　find　the　La　Dorada　statue　it　would　most　likely　be　in　the　general　cargo　partment　beneath　the　bridge　and　forecastle。　He　motioned　the　others　to　continue　their　probe　toward　the　bow。
　　　　They　swam　slowly；　carefully　along　the　catwalk　that　stretched　over　the　sprawling　coal　hatches；　skirting　around　the　great　clamshell　loading　buckets　and　under　the　corroded　derricks　that　reached　forlornly　toward　the　refracted　rays　from　above。　It　became　apparent　to　them　that　the　Cyclops　had　died　a　quick　and　violent　death。　The　rotting　remains　of　the　lifeboats　were　forever　frozen　in　their　davits　and　much　of　the　superstructure　looked　as　if　it　had　been　crushed　by　a　monstrous　fist。
　　　　The　odd　boxlike　form　of　the　bridge　slowly　took　form　out　of　the　blue…green　dusk。　The　two　support　legs　on　the　starboard　side　had　buckled；　but　the　hull's　tilt　to　port　had　pensated　for　the　angle。　Peculiarly　out　of　kilter　with　the　rest　of　the　ship；　the　bridge　stood　on　a　perfect　horizontal　plane。
　　　　The　dark　on　the　other　side　of　the　wheelhouse　door　looked　ominous。　Pitt　switched　on　his　dive　light　and　drifted　slowly　inside；　taking　care　not　to　stir　up　the　silt　on　the　deck　with　his　fins。　Dim　light　filtered　through　the　slime…coated　portholes　on　the　forward　bulkhead。　He　brushed　away　the　muck　from　the　glass　covering　the　ship's　clock。　The　tarnished　hands　were　frozen　at　12：21。　He　also　examined　the　big　upright　pass　stand。　The　interior　was　still　watertight　and　the　needle　floated　free　in　kerosene；　pointing　faithfully　toward　magnetic　north。　Pitt　noted　that　the　ship's　heading　was　340　degrees。
　　　　On　opposite　sides　of　the　pass；　covered　over　by　a　colony　of　sponges　that　turned　vivid　red　under　Pitt's　light；　were　two　postlike　objects　that　rose　from　the　deck　and　fanned　out　at　the　top。　Curious；　Pitt　wiped　the　growth　from　the　port　one；　revealing　a　glass　face；　through　which　he　could　barely　make　out　the　words　AHEAD　FULL；　HALF；　SLOW；　DEAD　SLOW；　STOP；　and　FINISHED　WITH　ENGINES。　It　was　the　bridge　telegraph　to　the　engine　room。　He　noted　that　the　brass　arrow　was　pointing　to　FULL。　He　floated　over　and　cleaned　the　glass　on　the　starboard　telegraph。　The　pointer　was　locked　on　FINISHED　WITH　ENGINES。
　　　　Jessie　was　about　eight　feet　behind　Pitt　when　she　let　out　a　garbled　scream　that　lifted　the　hair　on　the　nape　of　his　neck。　He　spun　around；　half　thinking　she　was　being　dragged　away　by　a　shark；　but　she　was　gesturing　frantically　at　a　pair　of　objects　protruding　from　the　silt。
　　　　Two　human　skulls；　muck　up　to　their　nose　openings；　stared　through　empty　eye　sockets。　They　give　Pitt　the　disconcerting　feeling　he　was　being　watched。　The　bones　of　another　crewman　rested　against　the　base　of　the　helm；　one　skeletal　arm　still　wedged　between　the　spokes　of　the　wheel。　Pitt　wondered　if　one　of　them　might　be　the　pitiful　remains　of　Captain　Worley。
　　　　There　was　nothing　else　to　see；　so　Pitt　led　Jessie　outside　the　wheelhouse　and　down　a　panionway　to　the　crew　and　passenger　quarters。　At　almost　the　same　time；　Gunn　and　Giordino　disappeared　down　a　hatch　leading　to　a　small　cargo　hold。
　　　　The　layer　of　silt　was　shallow　in　this　section　of　the　ship；　no　more　than　an　inch　deep。　The　panionway　led　to　a　long　passageway　with　small　partments　off　to　the　sides。　Each　one　contained　bunks；　porcelain　sinks；　scattered　personal　effects；　and　the　skeletal　relics　of　their　occupants。　Pitt　soon　lost　count　of　the　dead。　He　paused　and　added　air　to　his　buoyancy　pensator　to　keep　his　body　balanced　in　a　freefloating；　horizontal　position。　The　slightest　touch　from　his　fins　would　stir　up　large　clouds　of　blinding　silt。
　　　　Pitt　tapped　Jessie　on　the　shoulder　and　shone　his　light　into　a　small　head　with　a　bathtub　and　two　toilets。　He　made　a　questioning　gesture。　She　grinned　around　her　mouthpiece　and　made　a　ical　but　negative　reply。
　　　　He　accidentally　struck　his　dive　light　against　a　steampipe　running　along　the　ceiling　and　momentarily　knocked　the　switch　into　the　Off　position。　The　sudden　realm　of　utter　darkness　was　as　total　and　stifling　as　if　they　were　dropped　into　a　coffin　and　the　lid　slammed　shut。　Pitt　had　no　wish　to　remain　surrounded　by　eternal　black　within　the　grave　of　the　Cyclops；　and　he　quickly　flicked　on　the　light　again；　exposing　a　brilliant　yellow　and　red　sponge　colony　that　clung　to　the　bulkheads　of　the　passageway。
　　　　It　soon　became　obvious　they　would　find　no　evidence　of　the　La　Dorada　statue　here。　They　made　their　way　back　through　the　passageway　of　death　and　resurfaced　on　the　forecastle　deck。　Giordino　was　waiting　and　motioned　toward　a　hatch　that　was　frozen　half　open。　Pitt　squeezed　through；　clanging　his　air　tanks　on　the　frame；　and　dropped　down　a　badly　eroded　ladder。
　　　　He　swam　through　what　looked　like　a　baggage　cargo　hold；　twisting　around　the　jumbled　and　decayed　rubbish；　heading　toward　the　unearthly　glow　of　Gunn's　dive　light。　A　pile　of　unhinged　bones　passed　under　him；　the　jaw　of　the　skull　gaping　in　what　seemed　in　Pitt's　imagination　a　ghastly　scream　of　terror。
　　　　He　found　Gunn　intently　examining　the　rotting　interior　of　a　large　shipping　crate。　The　grisly　skeletal　remains　of　two　men　were　wedged　between　the　crate　and　a　bulkhead。
　　　　For　a　brief　instant　Pitt's　heart　pounded　with　excitement　and　anticipation；　his　mind　certain　they　had　found　the　most　priceless　treasure　of　the　sea。　Then　Gunn　looked　up；　and　Pitt　saw　the　bitter　disappointment　reflected　in　his　eyes。
　　　　The　crate　was　empty。
　　　　A　frustrating　search　of　the　cargo　hold　turned　up　a　startling　revelation。　Lying　in　the　dark　shadows　like　a　collapsed　rubber　d