p&c.icelimit-第20节

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　seemed　pletely　deserted；　apparently　it；　too；　was　run　by　puter。　He　gripped　a　metal　pole　for　support；　and　it　vibrated　wildly　in　his　hand。
　Britton　looked　at　him　with　a　small　smile　as　they　continued　along　the　catwalk。　〃The　Rolvaag　is　driven　by　steam　boilers；　not　diesel　motors　like　other　ships；〃　she　said；　raising　her　voice　over　the　roar。　〃We　do　have　an　emergency　diesel　for　electricity；　though。　On　a　modern　ship　like　this；　you　can't　afford　to　lose　power。　Because　if　you　do；　you've　got　nothing：　no　puters；　no　navigation；　no　fire…fighting　equipment。　You're　a　drifting　hulk。　We　call　it　DIW：　dead　in　the　water。〃
　They　passed　through　another　heavy　door　at　the　forward　end　of　the　engine　space。　Britton　dogged　it　shut；　then　led　the　way　down　a　hallway　that　ended　at　a　closed　elevator　door。　McFarlane　followed；　grateful　for　the　quiet。
　The　captain　stopped　at　the　elevator；　looking　back　at　him　calculatingly。　Suddenly；　he　realized　she　had　more　on　her　mind　than　a　tour　of　the　jolly　old　Rolvaag。
　〃Mr。　Glinn　gave　a　good　talk；〃　Britton　said　at　last。
　〃I'm　glad　you　think　so。〃
　〃Crews　can　be　a　superstitious　lot；　you　know。　It's　amazing　how　fast　rumor　and　speculation　can　turn　into　fact　belowdecks。　I　think　that　talk　went　a　long　way　toward　squelching　any　rumors。〃　There　was　another　brief　pause。　Then　she　spoke　again。
　〃I　have　the　feeling　Mr。　Glinn　knows　a　lot　more　than　he　said。　Actually；　no　…　that　isn't　the　right　way　to　put　it。　I　think　maybe　he　knows　less　than　he　let　on。〃　She　glanced　sidelong　at　McFarlane。　〃Isn't　that　right？〃
　McFarlane　hesitated。　He　didn't　know　what　Lloyd　or　Glinn　had　told　the　captain　…　or；　more　to　the　point；　what　they　had　withheld。　Nevertheless；　he　felt　that　the　more　she　knew；　the　better　off　the　ship　would　be。　He　felt　a　sense　of　kinship　with　her。　They'd　both　made　big　mistakes。　They'd　both　been　dragged　behind　the　motorcycle　of　life　a　little　longer　than　the　average　Joe。　In　his　gut；　he　trusted　Sally　Britton。
　〃You're　right；〃　he　said。　〃The　truth　is；　we　know　almost　nothing　about　it。　We　don't　know　how　something　so　large　could　have　survived　impact。　We　don't　know　why　it　hasn't　rusted　away。　What　little　electromagnetic　and　gravitational　data　we　have　about　the　rock　seem　contradictory；　even　impossible。〃
　〃I　see；〃　said　Britton。　She　looked　into　McFarlane's　eyes。　〃Is　it　dangerous？〃
　〃There　is　no　reason　to　think　so。〃　He　hesitated。　〃No　reason　to　think　not；　either。〃
　There　was　a　pause。
　〃What　I　mean　is；　will　it　pose　a　hazard　to　my　ship　or　my　crew？〃
　McFarlane　chewed　his　lip；　wondering　how　to　answer。　〃A　hazard？　It's　heavy　as　hell。　It'll　be　tricky　to　maneuver。　But　once　it's　safely　secured　in　its　cradle；　I　have　to　believe　it'll　be　less　dangerous　than　a　hold　full　of　inflammable　oil。〃　He　looked　at　her。　〃And　Glinn　seems　to　be　a　man　who　never　takes　chances。〃
　For　a　moment；　Britton　thought　about　this。　Then　she　nodded。　〃That　was　my　take　on　him；　too：　cautious　to　a　fault。〃　She　pressed　the　button　for　the　elevator。　〃That's　the　kind　of　person　I　like　on　board。　Because　the　next　time　I　end　up　on　a　reef；　I'm　going　down　with　the　ship。〃
　
　Rolvaag；
　July　3；　2：15　P。M。
　
　AS　THE　good　ship　Rolvaag　crossed　the　equator；　with　the　coast　of　Brazil　and　the　mouth　of　the　Amazon　far　to　the　west；　a　time…honored　ritual　began　on　the　ship's　bow；　as　it　had　on　oceangoing　vessels　for　hundreds　of　years。
　Thirty　feet　below　deck　and　almost　nine　hundred　feet　aft；　Dr。　Patrick　Brambell　was　unpacking　his　last　box　of　books。　For　almost　every　year　of　his　working　life　he　had　crossed　the　line　at　least　once；　and　he　found　the　conitant　ceremonies　…　the　〃Neptune's　tea〃　made　from　boiled　socks；　the　gauntlet　of　fish…wielding　deckhands；　the　vulgar　laughter　of　the　shellbacks　…　distasteful　in　the　extreme。
　He　had　been　unpacking　and　arranging　his　extensive　library　ever　since　the　Rolvaag　left　port。　It　was　a　task　he　enjoyed　almost　as　much　as　reading　the　books　themselves；　and　he　never　allowed　himself　to　hurry。　Now　he　ran　a　scalpel　along　the　final　seam　of　packing　tape；　pulled　back　the　cardboard　flaps；　and　looked　inside。　With　loving　fingers；　he　removed　the　topmost　book；　Burton's　Anatomy　of　Melancholy；　and　caressed　its　fine　half…leather　cover　before　placing　it　on　the　last　free　shelf　in　his　cabin。　Orlando　Furioso　came　next；　then　Huysmans's　A　rebours；　Coleridge's　lectures　on　Shakespeare；　Dr。　Johnson's　Rambler　essays；　Newman's　Apologia　pro　Vita　Sua。　None　of　the　books　was　about　medicine；　in　fact；　of　the　thousand…odd　eclectic　books　in　Brambell's　traveling　library；　only　a　dozen　or　so　could　be　considered　professional　references　…　and　those　he　segregated　in　his　medical　suite；　to　remove　the　vocational　stain　from　his　cherished　library。　For　Dr。　Brambell　was　first　a　reader；　and　second　a　doctor。
　The　box　empty　at　last；　Brambell　sighed　in　mingled　satisfaction　and　regret　and　stepped　back　to　survey　the　ranks　of　books　standing　in　neat　rows　on　every　surface　and　shelf。　As　he　did　so；　there　was　the　clatter　of　a　distant　door；　followed　by　the　measured　cadence　of　footsteps。　Brambell　waited　motionless；　listening；　hoping　it　was　not　for　him　but　knowing　it　was。　The　footsteps　stopped；　and　a　brief　double　rap　came　from　the　direction　of　the　waiting　room。
　Brambell　sighed　again；　a　very　different　sigh　from　the　first。　He　glanced　around　the　cabin　quickly。　Then；　spying　a　surgical　mask；　he　picked　it　up　and　slipped　it　over　his　mouth。　He　found　it　very　useful　in　hurrying　patients　along。　He　gave　the　books　a　last　loving　glance；　then　slipped　out　of　the　cabin；　closing　the　door　behind　him。
　He　walked　down　the　long　hallway；　past　the　rooms　of　empty　hospital　beds；　past　the　surgical　bays　and　the　pathology　lab；　to　the　waiting　room。　There　was　Eli　Glinn；　an　expandable　file　beneath　one　arm。
　Glinn's　eyes　fastened　on　the　surgical　mask。　〃I　didn't　realize　you　were　with　someone。〃
　〃I'm　not；〃　Brambell　said　through　the　mask。　〃You're　the　first　to　arrive。〃
　Glinn　glanced　at　the　mask　a　moment　more。　Then　he　nodded。　〃Very　well。　May　we　speak？〃
　〃Certainly。〃　Brambell　led　the　way　to　his　consultation　room。　He　found　Glinn　to　be　one　of　the　most　unusual　creatures　he　had　ever　met：　a　man　with　culture　who　took　no　delight　in　it；　a　man　with　conversation　who　never　employed　it；　a　man　with　hooded　gray　eyes　who　made　it　his　business　to　know　everyone's　weaknesses；　save　his　own。
　Brambell　closed　the　door　to　his　consultation　room。　〃Please　sit　down；　Mr。　Glinn。〃　He　waved　a　hand　at　Glinn's　folder。　〃I　assume　those　are　the　medical　histories？　They　are　late。　Fortunately；　I've　had　no　need　to　call　on　them　yet。〃
　Glinn　slipped　into　the　chair。　〃I've　set　aside　some　of　the　folders　that　might　require　your　attention。　Most　are　routine。　There　are　a　few　exceptions。〃
　〃I　see。〃
　〃We'll　start　with　the　crew。　Victor　Howell　has　testicular　cryptorchidism。〃
　〃Odd　that　he　hasn't　had　it　corrected。〃
　Glinn　looked　up。　〃He　probably　doesn't　like　the　idea　of　a　knife　down　there。〃
　Brambell　nodded。
　Glinn　leafed　through　several　more　folders。　There　were　the　usual　plaints　and　conditions　to　be　found　in　any　random　sampling　of　the　population：　a　few　diabetics；　a　chronic　slipped　disk；　a　case　of　Addison's　disease。
　〃Fairly　healthy　crew；　there；〃　said　Brambell；　hoping　faintly　that　the　session　was　over。　But　no　…　Glinn　was　taking　out　another　set　of　folders。
　〃And　here　are　the　psychological　profiles；〃　Glinn　said。　Brambell　glanced　over　at　the　names。　〃What　about　the　EES　people？〃
　〃We　have　a　slightly　different　system；〃　said　Glinn。　〃EES　files　are　available　on　a　need…to…know　basis　only。〃
　Brambell　didn't　respond　to　that　one。　No　use　arguing　with　a　man　like　Glinn。
　Glinn　took　two　additional　folders　out　of　his　briefcase　and　placed　them　on　Brambell's　desk；　then　casually　leaned　back　in　the　chair。　〃There's　really　only　one　person　here　I'm　concerned　about。〃
　〃And　who　might　that　be？〃
　〃McFarlane。〃
　Brambell　tugged　the　mask　down　around　his　chin。　〃The　dashing　meteorite　hunter？〃　he　asked　in　surprise。　The　man　did　carry　around　a　faint　air　of　trouble；　it　was　true。
　Glinn　tapped　the　top　folder。　〃I　will　be　giving　you　regular　reports　on　him。〃
　Brambell　raised　his　eyebrows。
　〃McFarlane　is　the　one　key　figure　here　not　of　my　choosing。　He's　had　a　dubious　career；　to　say　the　least。　That　is　why　I　would　like　you　to　evaluate　this　report；　and　the　ones　to　follow。〃
　Brambell　looked　at　the　file　with　distaste。　〃Who's　your　mole？〃　he　asked。　He　expected　Glinn　to　be　offended；　but　he　was　not。
　〃I　would　rather　keep　that　confidential。〃
　Brambell　nodded。　He　pulled　the　file　toward　him；　leafing　through　it。　〃'Diffident　about　expedition　and　its　chances　for　success；〃'　he　read　aloud。　〃'Motivations　unclear。　Distrustful　of　the　scientific　munity。　Extremely　unfortable　with　managerial　role。　Tends　to　be　a　loner。'〃　He　dropped　the　folder。　〃I　don't　see　anything　unusual。〃
　Glinn　nodded　at　the　second；　much　larger　folder。　〃Here's　a　background　file　on　McFarlane。　Among　other　things；　it　contains　a　report　here　about　an　unpleasant　incident　in　Greenland　some　years　ago。〃
　Brambell　sighed。　He　was　a　most　incurious　man；　and　this　was；　he　suspected；　a　major　reason　why　Glinn　had　hired　him。　〃I'll　look　at　it　later。〃
　〃Let's　look　at　it　now。〃
　〃Perhaps　you　could　summarize　it　for　me。〃
　〃Very　well。〃
　Brambell　sat　back；　folded　his　hands；　and　resigned　himself　to　listening。
　〃Years　ago；　McFarlane　had　a　partner　named　Masangkay。　They　first　team