pdouglas.thecodex-第16节

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gan　to　swell　and　turn　red。　Hurt　like　the　devil。　A　month　later　it　erupted；　and　inch…long　botfly　maggots　started　squirming　out　and　dropping　to　the　ground。　Once　you're　bitten；　the　best　thing　to　do　is　let　it　run　its　course。　If　you　try　to　dig　'em　out　you　only　make　a　muck　of　it。〃
　〃I　sincerely　hope　the　experience　didn't　affect　your　brain；〃　said　Tom。
　Dunn　ignored　him。　〃Then　there's　Chagas　disease。〃
　〃Chagas　disease？〃
　〃Trypanosoma　cruzi。　An　insect　carrying　the　disease　bites　you　and　shits　at　the　same　time。　The　parasite　lives　in　the　shit；　and　when　you　scratch　the　bite　you　infect　yourself。　You　aren't　aware　anything　is　wrong…until　ten　or　twenty　years　later。　First　you　notice　your　belly　swelling　up。　Then　you　bee　short　of　breath；　can't　swallow。　Finally　your　heart　swells　up…and　bursts。　No　known　cure。〃
　〃Lovely；〃　said　Tom。　He　had　finally　got　the　waiter's　attention。　〃Whiskey。　Make　it　a　double。〃
　Dunn　continued　looking　at　Tom；　a　smile　playing　about　his　lips。　〃Are　you　familiar　with　the　fer…de…lance？〃
　〃Can't　say　that　I　am。〃　Gruesome　stories　of　the　jungle；　it　seemed；　were　Derek　Dunn's　stock　in　trade。
　〃The　most　poisonous　snake　known　to　man。　Brown　and　yellow　bugger；　the　locals　call　it　a　barba　amarilla。　When　young　they　live　in　trees　and　branches。　Drop　down　on　you　when　disturbed。　The　bite　stops　your　heart　in　thirty　seconds。　Then　there's　the　bushmaster；　the　largest　poisonous　snake　in　the　world。　Twelve　feet　long　and　as　thick　as　your　thigh。　Not　nearly　as　deadly　as　the　fer…de…lance…with　a　bushmaster　bite；　you　might　live；　say；　twenty　minutes。〃
　Dunn　chuckled　and　took　another　gulp。
　Sally　murmured　something　about　how　dreadful　it　sounded。
　〃Naturally　you've　heard　of　toothpick　fish？　This　isn't　a　story　for　the　ladies。〃　Dunn　glanced　over　at　Tom；　winked。
　〃Do　tell；〃　said　Tom。　〃Sally's　no　stranger　to　crudity。〃
　Sally　flashed　him　a　look。
　〃Lives　in　the　rivers　around　here。　Let's　say　you　go　for　a　nice　morning　dip。　The　toothpick　fish　swims　right　up　your　Johnson；　then　flares　out　a　set　of　spines　and　anchors　itself　in　your　urethra。〃
　Tom's　drink　paused　halfway　to　his　mouth。
　〃Blocks　the　urethra。　If　you　don't　find　a　surgeon　damn　quick；　your　bladder　bursts。〃
　〃Surgeon？〃　Tom　said　weakly。
　Dunn　leaned　back。　〃That's　right。〃
　Tom's　throat　had　gone　dry。　〃What　kind　of　surgery？〃
　〃Amputation。〃
　The　drink　finally　made　it　to　Tom's　mouth；　where　he　took　a　slug；　and　then　another。
　Dunn　laughed　loudly。　〃I'm　sure　you've　heard　all　about　the　piranhas；　leishmaniasis；　electric　eels；　anacondas；　and　that　sort　of　thing。〃　Dunn　waved　his　hand　disparagingly。　〃The　dangers　of　those　are　greatly　exaggerated。　The　piranhas　only　go　after　you　if　you're　bleeding；　and　anacondas　are　rare　this　far　north　and　don't　eat　people。　There　is　one　advantage　to　the　Honduran　swamps：　no　leeches。　Watch　out　for　the　monkey　spiders；　though…〃
　〃So　sorry；　but　we'll　have　to　leave　the　monkey　spiders　for　another　day；〃　said　Tom；　looking　at　his　watch。　He　realized　that　Mr。　Derek　Dunn　had　his　hand　under　the　table；　resting　on　Sally's　knee。
　〃Not　having　second　thoughts　are　you；　old　chap？　This　is　not　a　country　for　pantywaists。〃
　〃Not　at　all；〃　said　Tom。　〃It's　just　that　I'd　rather　hear　about　your　encounter　with　the　toothpick　fish。〃
　Derek　Dunn　stared　at　Tom　unsmiling。　〃That's　a　rather　stale　joke；　my　friend。〃
　〃Well！〃　said　Sally　brightly。　〃Did　you　make　the　trip　alone？　We've　been　looking　for　a　guide　and　wondered　if　you　could　remend　someone。〃
　〃Where　are　you　chaps　headed？〃
　〃Brus　Laguna。〃
　〃You　are　getting　off　the　tourist　trail。〃　Suddenly　his　eyes　narrowed。　〃You're　not　a　writer；　are　you？〃
　Sally　laughed。　〃Oh　no；　I'm　an　archaeologist；　and　he's　a　horse　vet。　But　we're　just　here　as　tourists。　We　like　to　have　adventures。〃
　〃An　archaeologist？　There　aren't　many　ruins　around　here。　You　can't　build　in　a　swamp。　And　no　civilized　people　would　ever　live　in　those　interior　mountains。　Up　there　in　the　Sierra　Azul　there's　no　denser　rainforest　on　earth；　and　the　hills　are　so　steep　you　can　hardly　crawl　up　and　down　them。　There　isn't　a　flat　place　to　pitch　a　tent　for　a　hundred　miles。　You've　got　to　cut　your　way　through；　and　in　a　hard　day　of　travel　you're　lucky　to　make　a　mile。　A　trail　macheted　through　there　will　knit　itself　up　so　tight　in　a　week　you'd　never　know　it　existed。　If　it's　ruins　you're　after；　Sally；　why　don't　you　head　over　to　Copán？　Perhaps　I　could　tell　you　more　about　it　over　dinner。〃
　The　hand　was　still　on　her　knee；　squeezing　and　rubbing。
　〃Right；〃　said　Sally。　〃Maybe。　Getting　back　to　the　guide。　Do　you　have　any　remendations？〃
　〃Guide？　Oh　yes。　The　man　for　you　is　Don　Orlando　Ocotal。　A　Tawahka　Indian。　Absolutely　reliable。　Won't　cheat　you　like　the　others。　Knows　the　country　like　the　back　of　his　hand。　He　was　with　me　on　my　last　trip。〃
　〃How　do　we　find　him？〃
　〃He　lives　up　the　Patuca　River；　a　place　called　Pito　Solo；　the　last　real　settlement　on　the　river　before　the　big　interior　swamps　begin。　That's　forty；　maybe　fifty　miles　upriver　from　Brus。　Stay　in　the　main　channel　of　the　river　or　you'll　never　get　out　alive。　This　time　of　year　the　forests　are　flooded；　and　there're　a　zillion　side　channels　going　every　which　way。　That　country　is　virtually　unexplored；　from　the　swamps　all　the　way　past　the　Sierra　Azul　down　to　the　Guayambré　River。　Forty　thousand　square　kilometers　of　terra　incognita。〃
　〃We　haven't　really　decided　where　we're　going。〃
　〃Don　Orlando。　He's　your　man。〃　Then　Derek　Dunn　revolved　in　his　seat　and　faced　Tom　with　his　big　sweaty　face。　〃Say；　I'm　a　bit　short　of　funds…royalty　check　in　the　mail　and　all　that。　Perhaps　you　could　spot　us　another　round；　what　say？〃
　
　15
　
　On　the　puter　screen　nestled　discreetly　among　the　cherrywood　paneling　in　his　office；　Lewis　Skiba　watched　the　progress　of　Lampe…Denison　Pharmaceuticals　on　the　New　York　Stock　Exchange。　Investors　had　been　hammering　the　stock　all　day；　and　it　was　now　trading　at　close　to　ten。　Even　as　he　watched；　the　stock　ticked　down　another　eighth　of　a　point　to　trade　at　ten　even。
　Skiba　did　not　want　to　see　his　pany　go　into　single　digits。　He　flicked　off　the　screen。　His　eyes　flickered　to　the　wood　panel　that　hid　the　Macallan；　but　it　was　too　soon　for　that。　Too　soon。　He　needed　a　clear　head　for　the　call。
　Rumors　were　circulating　that　Phloxatane　was　in　trouble　at　the　FDA。　The　short　sellers　were　all　over　the　stock；　like　maggots　on　a　corpse。　Two　hundred　million　dollars　of　R&D　had　gone　into　that　drug。　Lampe　had　worked　with　the　best　medical　researchers　and　scientists　at　three　Ivy　League　universities。　The　double…blind　tests　had　been　well　conceived；　the　data　massaged　and　patted　into　the　best　possible　shape。　Their　friends　at　the　FDA　had　been　wined　and　dined。　But　nothing　in　the　end　would　save　Phloxatane。　No　matter　which　way　you　cut　the　data；　Phloxatane　was　a　failure。　And　here　he　was　sitting　on　six　million　shares　of　Lampe　stock　he　couldn't　unload…no　one　had　forgotten　what　happened　to　Martha　Stewart…as　well　as　two　million　paper　options　so　far　out　of　the　money　that　they　would　be　more　useful　as　toilet　tissue　in　his　Carrara　marble　bathroom。
　More　than　anything　else　in　this　world；　Skiba　loathed　short　sellers。　They　were　the　vultures；　the　maggots；　the　carrion　flies　of　the　market。　He　would　give　anything　to　see　Lampe's　stock　turn　against　them　and　start　rising；　he　would　love　to　see　their　panic　as　they　were　forced　to　cover　their　positions。　He　would　love　to　think　of　all　the　margin　calls　they　would　be　receiving。　It　would　be　a　beautiful　thing。　And　when　he　got　his　hands　on　the　Codex　and　made　the　announcement；　this　beautiful　thing　would　happen。　It　would　burn　the　short　sellers　so　badly　that　it　would　be　months；　maybe　years；　before　they　came　back。
　A　soft　trill　came　from　the　phone　on　his　desk。　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　The　satellite　call　was　right　on　time。　He　really　hated　talking　to　Hauser；　he　loathed　the　man　and　his　principles。　But　he　had　to　deal　with　him。　Hauser　had　insisted　on　〃keeping　him　in　the　loop〃；　even　though　Skiba　was　usually　a　hands…on　CEO；　he　had　hesitated。　Some　things　were　better　left　in　the　dark。　But　in　the　end　he　agreed；　if　only　to　keep　Hauser　from　doing　something　stupid　or　illegal。　When　he　got　the　Codex；　he　wanted　it　clean。
　He　picked　up　the　receiver。
　〃Skiba　here。〃
　The　voice　of　Hauser；　made　Donald…Duckish　by　the　scrambler；　came　over　the　line。　As　usual；　the　PI　wasted　no　time　on　pleasantries。
　〃Maxwell　Broadbent　went　up　the　Patuca　River　with　a　bunch　of　highland　Indians。　We're　on　his　track。　We　don't　know　yet　where　he　was　headed；　but　my　guess　is　somewhere　in　the　interior　mountains。〃
　〃Any　problems？〃
　〃One　of　the　sons；　Vernon；　jumped　the　gun　and　got　ahead　of　us　upriver。　It　seems　the　jungle　might　take　care　of　that　problem　for　us；　though。〃
　〃I　don't　understand。〃
　〃He　hired　two　drunken　guides　from　Puerto　Lempira；　and　they've　gotten　themselves　lost　in　Meambar　Swamp。　It　seems　unlikely　they　will；　ah；　ever　see　sunshine　again。〃
　Skiba　swallowed。　This　was　a　lot　more　information　than　he　needed　to　know。　〃Look；　Mr。　Hauser；　just　stick　to　the　facts　and　leave　the　opining　to　others。〃
　〃We　had　a　minor　setback　with　the　other　one；　Tom。　He's　got　a　woman　with　him；　a　graduate　student　in　ethnopharmacology　from　Yale。〃
　〃Ethnopharmacology？　She　knows　about　the　Codex？〃
　〃You　bet　your　ass　she　does。〃
　Skiba　winced。　〃That's　rather　inconvenient。〃
　〃Yeah；　but　it's　nothing　I　can