alistairmaclean.icestationzebra-第12节

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ext　to　no　time；　and　even　if　that　ice　is　forty　inches　thick；　it　couldn't　survive　all　that　pressure　at　a　concentrated　point。〃　…
　 〃Neither　could　the　〃Dolphin〃；〃　Hansen　said　grimly。　〃With　a　suddenly　induced　big　positive　buoyancy　like　that；　once　she　broke　through；　she'd　go　up　like　a　cork　from　a　champagne　bottle。　The　pressure　hull　might　take　it；　I　don't　know；　but　sure　as　little　apples　the　rudder　would　be　squashed　as　flat　as　a　piece　of　tin。　Do　you　want　to　spend　what　little's　left　of　your　life　traveling　in　steadily　decreasing　circles　under　the　polar　ice　cap？〃　
　 I　didn't　want　to　spend　what　little　was　left　of　my　life　in　traveling　in　steadily　decreasing　circles　under　the　ice　cap；　so　I　kept　quiet。　I　watched　Swanson　as　he　walked　across　to　the　diving　stand　and　studied　the　banked　dials　in　silence　for　some　seconds。　I　was　beginning　to　bee　a　little　apprehensive　about　what　Swanson　would　do　next。　I　was　beginning　to　realize；　and　not　slowly；　either；　that　he　was　a　man　who　didn't　give　up　very　easily。
　 〃That's　enough　of　that；〃　he　said　to　the　diving　officer。　〃If　we　go　through　now　with　all　this　pressure　behind　us；　we'll　be　airborne。　This　ice　is　even　thicker　than　we　thought。　We've　tried　the　long；　steady　shove　and　it　hasn't　worked。　A　sharp　tap　is　obviously　what　is　needed。　Flood　her　down；　but　gently；　to　eighty　feet　or　so。　A　good　sharp　whiff　of　air　into　the　ballast　tanks；　and　we'll　give　our　well…known　imitation　of　a　bull　at　a　gate。〃
　 Whoever　had　installed　the　240…ton　air…conditioning　unit　in　the　〃Dolphin〃　should　have　been　prosecuted；　it　just　wasn't　working　any　more。　The　air　was　very　hot　and　stuffywhat　little　there　was　of　it；　that　was。　I　looked　around　cautiously　and　saw　that　everyone　else　appeared　to　be　suffering　from　this　same　shortage　of　air；　all　except　Swanson；　who　seemed　to　carry　his　own　built…in　oxygen　cylinder　around　with　him。　I　hoped　Swanson　was　keeping　in　mind　the　fact　that　the　〃Dolphin〃　cost　120　million　dollars　to　build。　Hansen's　narrowed　eyes　held　a　definite　core　of　worry；　and　even　the　usually　imperturbable　Rawlings　was　rubbing　a　bristly　blue　chin　with　a　hand　the　size　and　shape　of　a　shovel。　In　the　deep　silence　after　Swanson　had　finished　speaking　the　scraping　noise　sounded　unusually　loud；　then　was　lost　in　the　noise　of　water　flooding　into　the　tanks。
　 We　stared　at　the　screen。　Water　continued　to　pour　into　the　tanks　until　we　could　see　a　gap　appear　between　the　top　of　the　sail　and　the　ice。　The　pumps　started　up；　slowly；　to　control　the　speed　of　descent。　On　the　screen；　the　cone　of　light　thrown　on　to　the　underside　of　the　ice　by　the　floodlight　grew　fainter　and　larger　as　we　dropped；　then　remained　stationary；　neither　moving　nor　growing　in　size。　We　had　stopped。
　 〃Now；〃　said　Swanson。　〃Before　that　current　gets　us　again。〃
　 There　came　the　hissing　roar　of　pressed　air　under　high　pressure　entering　the　ballast　tanks。　The　〃Dolphin〃　started　to　move　sluggishly　upward　while　we　watched　the　cone　of　light　on　the　ice　slowly　narrow　and　brighten。
　 〃More　air；〃　Swanson　said。
　 We　were　rising　faster　now；　closing　the　gap　to　the　ice　all　too　quickly　for　my　liking。　Fifteen　feet；　twelve　feet；　ten　feet。
　 〃More　air；〃　Swanson　said。
　 I　braced　myself；　one　hand　on　the　plot；　the　other　on　an　overhead　grab　bar。　On　the　screen；　the　ice　was　rushing　down　to　meet　us。　Suddenly　the　picture　quivered　and　danced；　the　〃Dolphin〃　shuddered；　jarred；　and　echoed　hollowly　along　its　length；　more　lights　went　out；　the　picture　came　back　on　the　screen；　the　sail　was　still　lodged　below　the　ice；　then　the　〃Dolphin〃　trembled　and　lurched　and　the　deck　pressed　against　our　feet　like　an　ascending　elevator。　The　sail　on　the　TV　vanished；　nothing　but　opaque　white　taking　its　place。　The　diving　officer；　his　voice　high　with　strain　that　had　not　yet　found　relief；　called　out；　〃Forty　feet；　forty　feet。〃　We　had　broken　through。
　 〃There　you　are；　now；〃　Swanson　said　mildly。　〃All　it　needed　was　a　little　perseverance。〃　I　looked　at　the　short；　plump　figure；　the　round；　good…humored　face；　and　wondered　for　the　hundredth　time　why　the　nerveless　iron　men　of　this　world　so　very　seldom　look　the　part。
　 I　let　my　pride　have　a　holiday。　I　took　my　handkerchief　from　my　pocket；　wiped　my　face；　and　said　to　Swanson；　〃Does　this　sort　of　thing　go　on　all　the　time？〃
　 〃Fortunately；　perhaps；　no；〃　he　smiled。　He　turned　to　the　diving　officer。　〃We've　got　our　foothold　on　this　rock。　Let's　make　sure　we　have　a　good　belay。〃
　 For　a　few　seconds；　more　pressed　air　was　bled　into　the　tanks；　then　the　diving　officer　said：　〃No　chance　of　her　dropping　down　now；　Captain。〃
　 〃Up　periscope。〃
　 Again　the　long；　gleaming　silver　tube　hissed　up　from　its　well。　Swanson　didn't　even　bother　folding　down　the　hinged　handles。　He　peered　briefly　into　the　eyepiece；　then　straightened。　〃Down　periscope。〃
　 〃Pretty　cold　up　top？〃　Hansen…　asked。
　 Swanson　nodded。　〃Water　on　the　lens　must　have　frozen　solid　as　soon　as　it　hit　that　air。　Can't　see　a　thing。〃　He　turned　to　the　diving　officer。　〃Steady　at　forty？〃
　 〃Guaranteed。　And　all　the　buoyancy　we'll　ever　want。〃
　 〃Fair　enough。〃　Swanson　looked　at　the　quartermaster；　who　was　shrugging　his　way　into　a　heavy　sheepskin　coat。　〃How　about　a　little　fresh　air；　Ellis？〃
　 〃Right　away；　sir。〃　Ellis　buttoned　his　coat　and　added：　〃Might　take　some　time。〃
　 〃I　don't　think　so；〃　Swanson　said。　〃You　may　find　the　bridge　and　hatchways　jammed　with　broken　ice　but　I　doubt　it。　My　guess　is　that　that　ice　is　so　thick　that　it　will　have　fractured　into　very　large　sections　and　fallen　outside　clear　of　the　bridge。〃
　 I　felt　my　ears　pop　with　the　sudden　pressure　change　as　the　hatch　swung　up　and　open　and　snapped　back　against　its　standing　latch。　Another；　more　distant　sound　as　the　second　hatch　cover　locked　open；　and　then　we　heard　Ellis　on　the　voice　tube。
　 〃All　clear　up　top。〃
　 〃Raise　the　antennae；〃　Swanson　said。　〃John；　have　them　start　transmitting　and　keep　transmitting　until　their　fingers　fall　off。　Here　we　are　and　here　we　stayuntil　we　raise　Drift　Ice　Station　Zebra。〃
　 〃If　there's　anyone　left　alive　there；〃　I　said。　
　 〃There's　that；　of　course；〃　Swanson　said。　He　couldn't　look　at　me。　〃There's　always　that。〃
　
　
　4
　
　 This；　I　thought；　death's　dreadful　conception　of　a　dreadful　world；　must　have　been　what　had　chilled　the　hearts　and　souls　of　our　far…off　Nordic　ancestors　when　life's　last　tide　slowly　ebbed　and　they　had　tortured　their　failing　minds　with　fearful　imaginings　of　a　bleak　and　bitter　hell　of　eternal　cold。　But　it　had　been　all　right　for　the　old　boys；　all　they　had　to　do　was　imagine　it；　we　had　to　experience　the　reality　of　it；　and　I　bad　no　doubt　at　all　in　my　mind　as　to　which　was　easier。　The　latter…day　Eastern　conception　of　hell　was　altogether　more　fortable；　at　least　a　man　could　keep　reasonably　warm　there。
　 One　thing　sure；　nobody　could　keep　reasonably　warm　where　Rawlings　and　I　were；　standing　a　half…hour　watch　on　the　bridge　of　the　〃Dolphin〃　and　slowly　freezing　solid。　It　had　been　my　own　fault　entirely　that　our　teeth　were　chattering　like　frenzied　castanets。　Half　an　hour　after　the　radio　room　had　started　transmitting　on　Drift　Ice　Station　Zebra's　wave　length　and　all　without　the　slightest　whisper　by　way　of　reply　or　acknowledgment；　I　had　suggested　to　mander　Swanson　that　Zebra　might　possibly　be　able　to　hear　us　without　having　sufficient　power　to　send　a　reply　but　that　they　might　just　conceivably　let　us　have　an　acknowledgment　some　other　way。　I'd　pointed　out　that　drift　stations　habitually　carried　rocketsthe　only　way　to　guide　home　any　lost　members　of　the　party　if　radio　munication　broke　downand　radio　sondes　and　rockoons。　The　sondes　were　…radio…carrying　balloons　that　could　rise　to　a　height　of　twenty　miles　to　gather　weather　information；　the　rockoons；　radio　rockets　fired　from　balloons；　could　rise　even　higher。　On　a　moonlit　night　such　as　this；　those　balloons；　if　released；　would　be　visible　at　least　twenty　miles　away：　if　flares　were　attached　to　them；　at　twice　that　distance。　Swanson　had　seen　my　point；　called　for　volunteers　for　the　first　watch；　and　in　the　circumstances　I　hadn't　had　much　choice。　Rawlings　bad　offered　to　acpany　me。
　 It　was　a　landscapeif　such　a　bleak；　barren；　and；　featureless　desolation　could　be　called　a　landscapefrom　another　and　ancient　world；　weird　and　strange　and　oddly　frightening。　There　were　no　clouds　in　the　sky；　but　there　were　no　stars；　either：　this　I　could　not　understand。　Low　on　the　southern　horizon　a　milky；　misty　moon　shed　its　mysterious　light　over　the　dark　lifelessness　of　the　polar　ice　cap。　Dark；　not　white。　One　would　have　expected　moonlit　ice　to　shine　and　sparkle　and　glitter　with　the　light　of　a　million　crystal　chandeliers：　but　it　was　dark。　The　moon　was　so　low　in　the　sky　that　the　dominating　color　on　the　ice　cap　came　from　the　blackness　of　the　long　shadows　cast　by　the　fantastically　ridged　and　hummocked　ice；　and　where　the　moon　did　strike　directly；　the　ice　had　been　so　scoured　and　abraded　by　the　assaults　of　a　thousand　ice　storms　that　it　had　lost　almost　all　its　ability　to　reflect　light　of　any　kind。
　 This　ridged　and　hummocked　ice　cap　had　a　strange　quality　of　elusiveness；　of　impermanence；　of　evanescence：　one　moment　there；　definitively　hard　and　harsh　and　repellent　in　its　coldly　contrasting　blacks　and　whites；　the　next；　ghost…like；　blurring　coalescing　and　finally　vanishing　like　a　shimmering　mirage　fading　and　dying　in　some　ice…bound　desert。　But　this　was　no　trick　of　the