cyclops-第35部分
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boards except Giordino。 He sat with one arm wrapped around a lifeline and gripped the outboard motor's steering lever with his free hand。
The daylight was fading slowly away and night would fall in another hour。 The air was hot and stifling； making it difficult to breathe。 The almost solid wall of wind…stripped water decreased visibility to less than three hundred yards。 Pitt borrowed Gunn's diver's mask and raised his head over the bow。 It was like standing under Niagara Falls and staring upward。
Giordino felt icy despair as the hurricane unleashed its full wrath around them。 That they had survived this long was just short of a miracle。 He was fighting the tumbling sea in a kind of restrained frenzy； struggling desperately to keep their puny oasis from being overwhelmed by a wave。 He constantly changed throttle settings； trying to ride just behind the towering crests； warily glancing over his shoulder every few seconds at the gaping trough chasing their stern thirty feet below and behind。
Giordino knew the end was only minutes away； certainly no more than an hour with enormous luck。 It would be so easy to swing the boat abeam of the sea and finish it now。 He allowed himself a quick look down at the others and saw a broad smile of encouragement on Pitt's lips。 If his friend of nearly thirty years felt close to death； he gave no hint of it。 Pitt threw a jaunty wave and returned to peering over the bow。 Giordino couldn't help wondering what he was looking at。
Pitt was studying the waves。 They were piling up higher and more steeply； the wind hurling the foaming white horse at the peaks into the next trough。 He estimated the distance between crests and judged that they were packing together like the forward lines of a marching column that was slowing its pace。
The bottom was ing up。 The surge was flinging them into shallower water。
Pitt's eyes strained to penetrate the chaotic wall of water。 Slowly； as if a black…and…white photograph were being developed； shadowy images began taking shape。 The first image that flashed through his mind was that of stained teeth； blackened molars being scrubbed by white toothpaste。 The image sharpened into dark rocks with the waves smashing against them in great unending explosions of white。 He watched the water shoot skyward as the backwash struck an ining surge。 Then； as the surf momentarily settled； he spotted a low reef extending parallel to the rocks that formed a natural wall in front of a wide； sweeping beach。 It had to be the Cuban island of Cayo Santa Maria； he reckoned。
Pitt had no problem visualizing the probabilities of the new nightmare； bodies torn to shreds on the coral reef or crushed on the jagged rocks。 He wiped the salt from the mask lens and stared again。 Then he saw it； a thousand…in…one chance to survive the vortex。
Giordino had seen it too a small inlet between the rocks。 He steered for it； knowing he stood a better chance of threading a needle in a thrashing washing machine。
In the next thirty seconds the churning outboard and the storm had carried them a hundred yards。 The sea over the reef boiled in a dirty foam and the wind velocity increased to where the driving spray and the darkness made vision almost impossible。 Jessie's face went white； her body rigid。 Her eyes met Pitt's for an instant； fearful yet trusting。 His arm circled her waist and squeezed tight。
A breaker caught and struck them like an avalanche down a mountain。 The screw of the outboard raced as it lifted clear of the crest； but its protesting whirr was drowned by the deafening noise of the surf。 Gunn opened his mouth to shout a warning； but no sound came。 The plunging breaker curled over the boat and smashed down on them with fantastic force。 It tore Gunn's hold on the lifeline； and Pitt saw him gyrate through the air like a kite with a broken string。
The boat was driven over the reef； buried in foam。 The coral sliced through the rubberized fabric into the air chambers。 A field of razor blades couldn't have done it more efficiently。 The thickly encrusted bottom swirled past。 For several moments they were pletely submerged。 Then at last the faithful little inflatable wallowed to the surface and they were clear of the reef with only fifty yards of open water separating them from the craggy ramparts； looming dark and wet。
Gunn bobbed up only a few feet away； gasping for breath。 Pitt reached way out； grabbed him by the shoulder strap of his buoyancy pensator； and hauled him on board。 The rescue didn't e a second too soon。 The next breaker came roaring over the reef like a herd of crazed animals running before a forest fire。
Giordino grimly hung on to the motor； which was unfalteringly purring away with every bit of horsepower her pistons could punch out。 It didn't take a psychic to know the frail craft was being torn to bits。 She was only buoyed up by air still trapped in her chambers。
They were almost within reach of the gap between the rocks when they were caught by the wave。 The preceding trough slipped under the base of the breaker； causing it to steepen to twice its height。 Its speed increased as it rushed toward the rocky shoreline。
Pitt glanced up。 The menacing pinnacles towered above them； water boiling around their foundations like a seething caldron。 The boat was thrust up the front of the breaker； and for a brief instant Pitt thought they might be carried over the peak before it broke。 But it curled suddenly and toppled forward； striking the rocks opposite the inlet with the shattering crash of thunder； throwing the shredded boat and its occupants into the air； spilling them into the maelstrom。
Pitt heard Jessie scream from far in the distance。 It barely pierced his numbed mind； and he struggled to reply； but then everything blurred。 The boat fell with such jarring force the motor was ripped from the transom and slung onto the beach。
Pitt remembered nothing after that。 A black whirlpool opened up and he was sucked into it。
The man who was the driving force behind the Jersey Colony lay on an office couch inside the concealed headquarters of the project。 He rested his eyes and concentrated on his meeting with the President on the golf course。
Leonard Hudson knew damn well the President wasn't about to sit still and wait patiently for another surprise contact。 The Chief Executive was a pusher who never left anything to luck。 Although Hudson's sources inside the White House and the intelligence agencies reported no indication of an investigation； he was certain the President was figuring a way to penetrate the curtain around the inner core。'
He could almost feel the net being thrown。
His secretary rapped softly on the door and then opened it。 〃Excuse me for intruding； but Mr。 Steinmetz is on the viewer and wishes to talk to you。〃
〃I'll be there in a minute。〃
Hudson rearranged his thoughts as he laced his shoes。 Like a puter； he logged out of one problem and called up another。 He didn't look forward to battling with Steinmetz even if the man was a quarter of a million miles away。
Eli Steinmetz was the kind of engineer who overcame an obstacle by designing a mechanical solution and then building it with his own hands。 His talent for improvisation was the reason Hudson had chosen him as the leader of the Jersey Colony。 A graduate of Caltech with a master's degree from MIT； he had supervised construction projects in half the countries of the world； even Russia。
When approached by the 〃inner core〃 to build the first human habitat on lunar soil； Steinmetz had taken nearly a week to make a decision while his mind wrestled with the awesome concept and staggering logistics of such a project。 Finally； he accepted； but only on his own terms。
He and only he would select the crew to live on the moon。 There would be no pilots or prima donna astronauts in residence。 All space flight would be directed by ground control or puters。 Only men whose special qualifications were vital in the construction of the base would be included。 Besides Steinmetz； the first three to launch the colony were solar and structural engineers。 Months later a biologist…docto
