dk.coldfire-第29节

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；　and　a　lot　of　them　are　going　to　walk　out　of　it　unhurt。　Now；　for　God's　sake；　e　on。〃　
　He　reached　for　the　door　handle。　
　〃Wait。　You've　got　to　tell　the　pilot。〃　
　He　shook　his　head。　〃It　wouldn't　help。〃　
　〃But　maybe　there's　something　he　can　do；　stop　it　from　happening。〃　
　〃He　wouldn't　believe　me；　and　even　if　he　did。　。　。　I　don't　know　what　to　tell　him。　We're　going　down；　yeah；　but　I　don't　know　why。　Maybe　a　mid…air　collision；　maybe　structural　failure；　maybe　there's　a　bomb　aboard…it　could　be　anything。〃　
　〃But　you're　a　psychic；　you　must　be　able　to　see　more　details　if　you　try。〃　
　〃If　you　believe　I'm　a　psychic；　you　know　less　about　me　than　you　think　you　do。〃　
　〃You've　got　to　try。〃　
　〃Oh；　lady；　I'd　try；　I'd　try　like　a　sonofabitch　if　it　would　do　any　good。　
　But　it　won't。〃　
　Terror　and　curiosity　fought　for　control　of　her　face。　〃If　you're　not　a　psychic…what　are　you？〃　〃A　tool。〃　
　〃Tool？〃　〃Someone　or　something　uses　me。〃　
　The　DC…10　shuddered　again。　They　froze；　but　the　aircraft　did　not　take　a　sudden　plunge。　It　went　on　as　before；　its　three　big　engines　droning。　
　Just　more　turbulence。　
　She　grabbed　his　arm。　〃You　can't　let　all　those　people　die！〃　A　rope　of　guilt　constricted　his　chest　and　knotted　his　stomach　at　the　implication　that　the　deaths　of　the　others　aboard　would　somehow　be　his　fault。　
　He　said；　〃I'm　here　to　save　the　woman　and　the　girl；　no　one　else。〃　
　〃That's　horrible。〃　
　Opening　the　lavatory　door；　he　said；　〃I　don't　like　it　any　more　than　you　do；　but　that's　the　way　it　is。〃　
　She　did　not　let　go　of　his　arm　but　jerked　at　it　angrily。　Her　green　eyes　were　haunted；　probably　with　her　own　visions　of　battered　bodies　strewn　across　the　earth　among　smoking　chunks　of　wreckage。　She　repeated　herself；　whispering　fiercely　this　time：　〃You　can't　let　all　those　people　die。〃　
　Impatiently；　he　said；　〃Either　e　with　me；　or　die　with　the　rest　of　them。〃　
　He　stepped　out　of　the　lavatory；　and　she　followed　him；　but　he　did　not　know　whether　she　was　going　to　acpany　him　back　to　his　section。　
　He　hoped　to　God　she　would。　He　really　could　not　be　held　responsible　for　all　the　other　people　who　would　perish；　because　they　would　have　died　even　if　he　had　not　e　aboard；　that　was　their　fate；　and　he　had　not　been　sent　to　alter　their　destinies。　He　could　not　save　the　whole　world；　and　he　had　to　rely　on　the　wisdom　of　whatever　higher　power　was　guiding　him。　But　he　most　definitely　would　be　responsible　for　Holly　Thorne's　death；　because　she　would　never　have　taken　the　flight　if；　unwittingly；　he　had　not　led　her　onto　it。　
　As　he　moved　forward　along　the　port　aisle；　he　glanced　to　his　left　at　the　portholes　and　clear　blue　sky　beyond。　He　had　a　too　vivid　sense　of　the　yawning　void　under　his　feet；　and　his　stomach　flopped。　
　When　he　reached　his　seat　in　row　sixteen；　he　dared　to　look　back。　
　Relief　flooded　through　him　at　the　sight　of　Holly　trailing　close。　
　He　pointed　to　a　pair　of　empty　seats　immediately　behind　his　and　Chris　tine's。　
　Holly　shook　her　head。　〃Only　if　you'll　sit　down　with　me。　We　have　to　talk。〃　
　He　glanced　down　at　Christine；　then　at　Holly。　He　was　acutely　aware　of　time　slipping　away　like　water　swirling　down　a　drain。　The　awful　moment　of　impact　was　drawing　closer。　He　wanted　to　pick　the　reporter　up；　stuff　her　into　the　seat；　engage　her　seatbelt；　and　lock　her　in　place。　But　seatbelts　didn't　have　locks。　
　Unable　to　conceal　his　extreme　frustration；　he　spoke　to　her　through　grit　ted　teeth。　〃My　place　is　with　them；〃　he　said；　meaning　with　Christine　and　Casey　Dubrovek。　
　He　had　spoken　quietly；　as　had　Holly；　but　other　passengers　were　beginning　to　look　at　them。　
　Christine　frowned　up　at　him；　craned　her　neck　to　look　back　at　Holly；　and　said；　〃Is　something　wrong；　Steve？〃　〃No。　Everything's　fine；〃　he　lied。　
　He　glanced　at　the　portholes　again。　Blue　sky。　Vast。　Empty。　How　many　miles　to　the　earth　below？　〃You　don't　look　well；〃　Christine　said。　
　He　realized　that　his　face　was　still　sheathed　in　a　greasy　film　of　sweat。　
　〃Just　a　little　warm。　Uh；　look；　I　ran　into　an　old　friend。　Gimme　five　minutes？〃　Christine　smiled。　〃Sure；　sure。　I'm　still　going　over　a　mental　list　of　the　most…eligible。〃　
　For　a　moment　he　had　no　idea　what　the　hell　she　was　talking　about。　
　Then　he　remembered　that　he　had　asked　her　to　play　matchmaker　for　him。　
　〃Good；〃　he　said。　〃Great。　I'll　be　right　back；　we'll　talk。〃　
　He　ushered　Holly　into　row　seventeen。　He　took　the　aisle　seat　next　to　her。　
　On　the　other　side　of　Holly　was　a　grandmotherly　tub　of　a　woman　in　a　flower…print　dress；　with　blue…tinted　gray　hair　in　a　mass　of　tight　curls。　
　She　was　sound　asleep；　snoring　softly。　A　pair　of　gold…framed　eyeglasses；　suspended　around　her　neck　on　a　bead　chain；　rested　on　her　matronly　bosom；　rising　and　falling　with　her　steady　breathing。　
　Leaning　close　to　him；　keeping　her　voice　so　low　it　could　not　even　carry　across　the　narrow　aisle；　but　speaking　with　the　conviction　of　an　impassioned　political　orator；　Holly　said；　〃You　can't　let　all　those　people　die。〃　
　〃We've　been　through　this；〃　he　said　restively；　matching　her　nearly　inaudible　pitch。　
　〃It's　your　responsibility〃　〃I'm　just　one　man！〃　〃But　one　very　special　man。〃　
　〃I'm　not　God；〃　he　said　plaintively。　
　〃Talk　to　the　pilot。〃　
　〃Jesus；　you're　relentless。〃　
　〃Warn　the　pilot；〃　she　whispered。　
　〃He　won't　believe　me。〃　
　〃Then　warn　the　passengers。〃　
　〃There　aren't　enough　empty　seats　in　this　section　for　all　of　them　to　move　here。〃　
　She　was　furious　with　him；　quiet　but　so　intense　that　he　could　not　look　away　from　her　or　dismiss　what　she　was　saying。　She　put　a　hand　on　his　arm；　gripping　him　so　tightly　that　it　hurt。　〃Damn　it；　maybe　they　could　do　something　to　save　themselves。〃　
　〃I'd　only　cause　a　panic。〃　
　〃If　you　can　save　more；　but　you　let　them　die；　it's　murder；〃　she　whispered　insistently；　anger　flashing　in　her　eyes。　
　That　accusation　hit　him　hard　and　had　something　of　the　effect　of　a　hammer　blow　to　the　chest。　For　a　moment　he　could　not　draw　his　breath。　
　When　he　could　speak；　his　voice　broke　repeatedly：　〃I　hate　death；　people　dying；　I　hate　it。　I　want　to　save　people；　stop　all　the　suffering；　be　on　the　side　of　life；　but　I　can　only　do　what　I　can　do。〃　
　〃Murder；〃　she　repeated。　
　What　she　was　doing　to　him　was　outrageous。　He　could　not　carry　the　load　of　responsibility　she　wanted　to　pile　on　his　shoulders。　If　he　could　save　the　Dubroveks；　he　would　be　at　working　two　miracles；　mother　and　child　spared　from　the　early　graves　that　had　been　their　destinies。　But　Holly　Thorne；　in　her　ignorance　about　his　abilities；　was　not　satisfied　with　two　miracles；　she　wanted　three；　four；　five；　ten；　a　hundred。　He　felt　as　if　an　enormous　weight　was　bearing　down　on　him；　the　weight　of　the　whole　damned　airplane；　crushing　him　into　the　ground。　It　was　not　right　of　her　to　put　the　blame　on　him；　it　wasn't　fair。　If　she　wanted　to　blame　someone；　she　should　cast　her　accusations　at　God；　who　worked　in　such　mysterious　ways　that　He　had　ordained　the　necessity　of　the　plane　crash　in　the　first　place。　
　〃Murder。〃　She　dug　her　fingers　into　his　arm　even　harder。　
　He　could　feel　anger　radiating　from　her　like　the　heat　of　the　sun　reflected　off　a　metal　surface。　Reflected。　Suddenly；　he　realized　that　image　was　too　apt　to　be　anything　less　than　Freudian。　
　Her　anger　over　his　unwillingness　to　save　everyone　on　the　plane　was　no　greater　than　his　own　anger　over　his　inability　to　do　so；　her　rage　was　a　reflection　of　his　own。　
　〃Murder；〃　she　repeated；　evidently　aware　of　the　profound　effect　that　accusation　had　on　him。　
　He　looked　into　her　beautiful　eyes；　and　he　wanted　to　hit　her；　punch　her　in　the　face；　smash　her　with　all　of　his　strength；　knock　her　unconscious；　so　she　wouldn't　put　his　own　thoughts　into　words。　She　was　too　perceptive。　He　hated　her　for　being　right。　
　Instead　of　hitting　her；　he　got　up。　
　〃Where　are　you　going？〃　she　demanded。　
　〃To　talk　to　a　flight　attendant。〃　
　〃About　what？〃　〃You　win；　okay？　You　win。〃　
　Making　his　way　toward　the　back　of　the　plane；　Jim　looked　at　the　people　he　passed；　chilled　by　the　knowledge　that　all　of　them　would　be　dead　soon。　As　his　desperation　intensified；　so　did　his　imagination；　and　he　saw　skulls　beneath　their　skin；　the　glowing　images　of　bones　shining　through　their　flesh；　for　they　were　the　living　dead。　He　was　nauseous　with　fear；　not　for　himself　but　for　them。　
　The　plane　bucked　and　shimmied　as　if　it　had　driven　over　a　pothole　in　the　sky。　He　grabbed　at　the　back　of　a　seat　to　steady　himself　But　this　was　not　the　big　one。　
　The　flight　attendants　were　gathered　farther　back　in　the　plane；　in　their　work　area；　preparing　to　serve　the　lunch　trays　that　had　just　e　up　from　the　galley。　They　were　a　mixed　group；　men　and　women；　a　couple　in　their　twenties　and　the　others　as　old　as　fifty…something。　
　Jim　approached　the　oldest　of　them。　According　to　the　tag　she　wore；　her　name　was　Evelyn。　
　〃I've　got　to　talk　to　the　pilot；〃　he　said；　keeping　his　voice　low；　although　the　nearest　passengers　were　well　forward　of　them。　
　If　Evelyn　was　surprised　by　his　request；　she　didn't　show　it。　She　smiled　just　as　she　had　been　trained　to　smile。　〃I'm　sorry；　sir；　but　that　isn't　possible。　
　Whatever　the　problem　is；　I'm　sure　I　can　help…〃　〃Listen；　I　was　in　the　lavatory；　and　I　heard　something；　a　wrong　sound；〃　he　lied；　〃not　the　right　kind　of　engine　noise。〃　
　Her　smile　became　a　little　wider　but　less　sincere；　and　she　went　into　her　reassure…