p&c.thunderhead-第75节

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tastrophe　were　the　torrent　of　rushing　water　that　divided　the　small　valley　like　a　brown　scar；　and　the　appalling　wreckage　of　trees　and　earthen　bank　that　lay　along　and　within　it。　
　He　turned　away　and　approached　Sloane；　who　had　arrayed　her　gear　along　the　retaining　wall　and　was　giving　it　a　final　inspection。　He　noticed　that　she　had　snugged　the　camp's　spare　pistol　into　her　belt。　
　〃What's　that　for？〃　he　asked；　pointing　at　the　weapon。　
　〃Remember　what　happened　to　Holroyd？〃　Sloane　replied；　eyes　on　the　gear。　〃Or　the　gutted　horses？　I　don't　want　any　nasty　surprises　while　we're　documenting　that　kiva。〃　
　Black　paused　a　moment；　thinking。　〃What　about　Swire？〃　he　asked。　
　〃What　about　him？〃　
　Black　looked　at　her。　〃He　didn't　seem　too　enthusiastic　about　all　this。〃　
　Sloane　shrugged。　〃He's　a　hired　hand。　He　has　nothing　to　say　that　anybody　would　want　to　hear。　Once　our　find　bees　known；　it'll　be　front…page　news　across　the　country　for　a　week；　and　in　the　Southwest　for　a　month。〃　She　took　his　hand；　gave　it　a　squeeze；　smiled。　〃He'll　fall　into　line。〃　
　Bonarotti　came　into　view　at　the　top　of　the　ladder；　the　oversized　。44　hanging　from　his　side；　digging　tools　slung　over　his　shoulder。　Sloane　withdrew　her　hand　and　turned　to　retrieve　her　gear。　
　〃Let's　go；〃　she　said。　
　With　Bonarotti　beside　him；　Black　followed　Sloane　across　the　central　plaza　toward　the　rear　of　the　dead　city。　He　could　feel　his　heart　beating　fast　in　his　chest。　
　〃Do　you　really　think　there's　gold　in　that　kiva？〃　Bonarotti　asked。　
　Black　turned　to　see　the　cook　looking　over　at　him。　For　the　first　time　that　he　could　recall；　Black　saw　animation；　even　strong　emotion；　in　the　man's　face。　
　〃Yes；　I　do；〃　he　replied。　〃I　can't　think　of　any　other　conclusion。　All　the　evidence　points　to　it。〃　
　〃What　will　we　do　with　it？〃　
　〃The　gold？〃　Black　asked。　〃The　Institute　will　decide；　of　course。〃　
　Bonarotti　fell　silent；　and　for　a　moment；　Black　scrutinized　the　man's　face。　It　occurred　to　him　that　he　really　had　no　idea　what　motivated　a　man　like　Bonarotti。　
　It　also　occurred　to　him　that；　in　all　his　constant　dreaming　about　the　kiva；　he　had　never　once　thought　about　what　might　happen　to　the　gold　after　the　kiva　was　opened。　Perhaps　it　would　be　put　on　display　at　the　Institute。　Perhaps　it　would　tour　the　museum　circuit；　as　King　Tut's　treasure　had。　In　point　of　fact；　it　didn't　really　matter；　it　was　the　find　itself…the　initial　moment　of　discovery…that　would　make　him　a　household　name。　
　They　made　their　way　through　the　Crawlspace　to　the　narrow　passageway；　then　ducked　into　the　inner　sanctum。　Sloane　set　up　two　portable　lamps　beside　the　kiva；　aiming　them　at　the　rock…filled　entrance。　Then　she　stood　back　to　prepare　the　camera　while　Black　and　Bonarotti　laid　out　the　tools。　As　if　from　a　distance；　Black　noticed　that　his　movements　were　slow；　careful；　almost　reverent。　
　And　then；　in　unison；　the　two　men　turned　toward　Sloane。　She　fixed　the　oversized　camera　to　a　tripod；　then　returned　their　glances。　
　〃I　don't　need　to　emphasize　the　importance　of　what　we're　about　to　do；〃　she　said。　〃This　kiva　is　the　archaeological　find　of　several　lifetimes；　and　we're　going　to　treat　it　as　such。　We'll　proceed　by　the　book；　documenting　every　step。　Luigi；　you　dig　the　sand　and　dust　away　from　the　doorway。　Do　it　very　carefully。　Aaron；　you　can　remove　the　rubble　and　stabilize　the　doorway。　But　first；　let　me　take　a　couple　of　exposures。〃　
　She　ducked　behind　the　camera；　and　the　dark　cavern　was　illuminated　by　a　quick　series　of　flashes。　Then　she　stepped　away　and　nodded。　
　As　Bonarotti　picked　up　a　shovel；　Black　turned　his　attention　to　the　rock　pile　that　covered　the　kiva's　entrance。　The　rocks　had　been　jammed　into　place　without　mortar；　and　were　clearly　without　archaeological　significance；　he　could　remove　them　by　hand；　without　having　to　resort　to　time…consuming　excavation　techniques。　But　they　were　heavy；　and　the　muscles　of　his　arms　soon　began　to　grow　tired。　Although　the　rock　pile　itself　was　curiously　free　of　the　dust　that　had　settled　so　thickly　over　the　rest　of　the　kiva's　surface；　Black　still　found　breathing　difficult：　Bonarotti's　shoveling　quickly　raised　a　choking　cloud　around　the　kiva's　entrance。　
　Sloane　maintained　a　supervisory　position　well　back　from　the　kiva；　taking　an　occasional　photograph；　jotting　notes　in　a　journal；　recording　measurements。　Every　now　and　then　she　would　caution　Bonarotti　against　growing　too　eager。　Once　she　even　barked　at　Black　when　a　stray　rock　fell　against　the　kiva　wall。　Almost　imperceptibly；　she　had　taken　over　the　role　of　leader。　As　he　worked；　Black　realized　that　perhaps　he　should　be　annoyed　by　this；　he　had　more　experience　and　seniority　by　far。　But　he　was　now　too　caught　up　in　the　excitement　to　care。　He　had　been　the　one　to　first　speculate　on　the　kiva's　existence。　He　had　been　the　one　to　find　it。　And　his　many　future　publications　on　the　gold　of　the　Anasazi　would　make　that　abundantly　clear。　Besides；　he　and　Sloane　were　a　team　now；　and…
　His　thoughts　were　cut　short　by　a　racking　cough。　He　stepped　back　from　the　doorway　for　a　moment；　wiping　his　face　with　his　sleeve。　The　dust　had　risen　to　a　miasmic　thickness；　and　in　the　center　of　it　all　was　Bonarotti；　toiling　with　his　shovel。　Slanted　columns　of　dust　hung　in　the　beams　of　artificial　light。　It　was　a　scene　worthy　of　Breughel。　Black　looked　over　at　Sloane；　perched　some　distance　away　on　a　rock；　scribbling　her　observations。　She　looked　up　at　him　and　flashed　a　brief；　wry　smile。　
　Taking　a　few　more　deep　breaths；　he　waded　back　in。　The　upper　tier　of　rocks　had　been　removed；　and　he　began　to　work　on　the　course　below　them。　
　Suddenly　he　stopped。　Behind　the　rocks；　he　could　now　make　out　a　patch　of　reddish　brown。　
　〃Sloane！〃　he　called。　〃Take　a　look。〃　
　In　a　moment；　she　was　beside　him。　She　waved　away　the　dust　and　took　several　closeups　with　a　handheld　camera。　
　〃There's　a　mud　seal　behind　these　rocks；〃　she　said。　Eagerness　elevated　her　contralto　voice　to　an　artificially　high　pitch。　〃Clear　the　rocks　away；　please。　Be　careful　not　to　damage　the　seal　in　the　process。〃　
　Now　that　Black　had　cleared　the　top　of　the　doorway；　the　going　was　easier。　Within　minutes；　the　seal　was　fully　exposed：　a　large　square　of　clay　stamped　against　what　seemed　to　be　a　layer　of　plaster。　A　reversed　spiral　had　been　molded　into　the　seal。　
　Once　again；　Sloane　came　forward　to　investigate。　
　〃This　is　odd；〃　she　said。　〃This　seal　looks　fresh。　Take　a　look。〃　
　Black　examined　the　seal　more　carefully。　It　was　definitely　fresh…too　fresh；　he　thought；　to　be　seven　hundred　years　old。　The　mortared　door；　filled　with　rocks；　had　worried　him　from　the　start：　the　door　just　looked　too　invasive　to　be　part　of　the　original　sealed　structure。　And　it　was　odd　that　the　omnipresent　dust　had　not　settled　on　the　rocks　massed　in　front　of　the　door。　For　a　moment；　calamitous　despair　threatened　to　settle　on　his　shoulders。　
　〃It's　impossible　that　anyone　was　here　before　us；〃　Sloane　murmured。　
　Then　she　looked　at　Black。　〃This　sealed　doorway　has　been　extremely　well　protected。　There　are　several　feet　of　stones　sheltering　it　from　the　elements。　Right？〃　
　〃Right。〃　Black　felt　the　despair　vanish　instantly；　the　excitement　returning。　〃That　could　explain　why　the　seals　look　so　fresh。〃　
　Sloane　took　some　more　photographs；　then　stepped　back。　〃Let's　keep　going。〃　
　His　breath　ing　in　short；　excited　gasps；　Black　redoubled　his　efforts　at　clearing　the　wall　of　rocks。　
　
　
54
　
　FAR　ABOVE　THE　FLOOD…RAVAGED　CANYON　OF　Quivira；　the　domes　and　hollows　of　the　wide　slickrock　plateau　were　warmed　by　the　late　afternoon　sun。　Gnarled　juniper　trees　dotted　the　strange　landscape；　and　Mormon　tea　bushes；　wild　buckwheat；　and　a　sprinkling　of　purple　verbena　grew　in　sandy　patches。　Small；　steep　gullies　intersected　the　landscape；　winding　through　the　red　sandstone；　the　deeper　potholes　along　their　rock　beds　still　shimmering　with　rainwater。　Here　and　there；　hoodoo　rocks　stood　above　the　land；　capped　with　a　darker　stratum　of　stone；　like　foul　dwarfs　crouching　among　the　trees。　To　the　east；　another；　smaller　rainstorm　was　advancing。　But　here；　a　thousand　feet　above　the　Quiviran　plateau；　the　sky　was　still　pleasantly　flecked　with　shredded　bits　of　cloud；　turning　from　white　to　yellow　in　the　aging　light。　
　In　a　hidden　gully　along　the　plateau；　two　pelted；　masked　figures　moved　in　stealthy　silence。　Their　progress　was　halting；　furtive；　as　if　they　were　unused　or　unwilling　to　move　about　in　daylight。　One　stopped　briefly；　crouched；　drank　from　a　pothole。　Then　they　moved　on　again；　angling　toward　a　patch　of　deep　shade　beside　a　fin　of　rock。　Here；　they　stopped　squatting　on　their　haunches。　
　Reaching　into　the　folds　of　his　fur　pelt；　one　of　the　skinwalkers　removed　a　buckskin　bag。　Silver　conchas　clinked　with　the　movement。　The　figure　produced　a　human　calvarium；　filled　with　dry；　shriveled　pellets；　like　gray　buttons。　The　second　skinwalker　produced　another　skull　bowl　and　a　long；　shriveled　root　in　roughly　the　shape　of　a　twisted　human　being；　laying　it　on　the　sand　beside　the　first　skull。　Both　began　to　chant　in　low；　quavering　tones。　An　obsidian　knife　flashed　as　the　tips　were　cut　off　the　dry　root。　
　They　worked　swiftly　and　silently。　A　hand；　decorated　with　white　clay　strips；　caressed　the　wrinkled　pellets。　Then　the　skinwalker　cupped　one；　two；　and　finally　three　of　the　pellets　in　his　palm；　pushing　them　through　the　mouthhole　of　his　mask　in　rapid