p&c.icelimit-第2章

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pad　of　wet　clay　in　the　center　of　the　canoe　
　The　canoe　rounded　the　black　cliffs　of　Isla　Desolacion；　turned　into　the　smoother　water　of　a　little　cove；　and　crunched　onto　the　cobbled　beach。　The　figure　leapt　out　and　pulled　the　canoe　above　the　high　tide　mark　He　had　heard　the　news；　in　passing；　from　one　of　the　nomadic　fishermen　who　lived　alone　in　these　cold　seas。　That　a　foreignlooking　man　would　visit　such　a　remote　and　inhospitable　island　was　unusual　indeed。　But　even　more　unusual　was　the　fact　that　a　month　had　passed；　and　the　man　had　apparently　not　left　
　He　paused；　catching　sight　of　something。　Moving　forward；　he　picked　up　a　piece　of　shattered　fiberglass；　and　then　another；　looking　at　them；　peeling　some　strands　from　the　broken　edges　and　tossing　them　aside。　The　remains　of　a　freshly　wrecked　boat。　Perhaps　there　was　a　simple　explanation　after　all。
　He　was　a　peculiar…looking　man　…　old；　dark；　with　long　gray　hair　and　a　thin　little　mustache　that　drooped　down　from　his　chin　like　the　film　of　a　spiderweb。　Despite　the　freezing　weather；　he　was　dressed　only　in　a　soiled　T…shirt　and　a　baggy　pair　of　shorts。　Touching　a　finger　to　his　nose；　he　blew　snot　out　of　his　nostrils；　first　one；　then　the　other；　with　a　delicate　motion。　Then　he　scrambled　up　the　cliff　at　the　head　of　the　little　cove。
　He　paused　at　its　brink；　his　bright　black　eyes　scanning　the　ground　for　signs。　The　gravelly　floor；　dotted　with　mounds　of　moss；　was　spongy　from　the　freeze…thaw　cycle；　and　it　had　preserved　the　footprints　…　and　hoofprints　…　excellently。
　He　followed　the　trail　as　it　made　its　irregular　way　up　a　rise　to　the　snowfield。　There　it　followed　the　edge　of　the　field；　eventually　cutting　down　into　the　valley　beyond。　At　a　brow　overlooking　the　valley　the　prints　stopped；　milling　around　in　a　crazy　pattern。　The　man　paused；　gazing　down　into　the　barren　draw。　There　was　something　down　there：　bits　of　color　against　the　landscape；　and　the　glint　of　sunlight　off　polished　metal。
　He　hurried　down。
　He　reached　the　mules　first；　still　tied　to　the　rock。　They　were　long　dead。　His　eyes　traveled　hungrily　across　the　ground；　glittering　with　avarice　as　they　registered　the　supplies　and　equipment。　Then　he　saw　the　body。
　He　approached　it；　moving　much　more　cautiously。　It　lay　on　its　back；　about　a　hundred　yards　from　the　mouth　of　a　recently　dug　hole。　It　was　naked；　with　just　a　shred　of　charred　clothing　clinging　to　the　carbonized　flesh。　Its　black；　burnt　hands　were　raised　to　the　sky；　like　the　claws　of　a　dead　crow；　and　its　splayed　legs　were　drawn　up　to　its　crushed　chest。　The　rain　had　collected　in　the　hollow　eye　sockets；　making　two　little　pools　of　water　that　reflected　the　sky　and　clouds。
　The　old　man　backed　away；　one　foot　at　a　time；　like　a　cat。　Then　he　stopped。　He　remained　rooted　to　the　spot；　staring　and　wondering；　for　a　long　time。　And　then　…　slowly；　and　without　turning　his　back　on　the　blackened　corpse　…　he　turned　his　attention　to　the　trove　of　valuable　equipment　that　lay　scattered　about。
　
　
　
　New　York　City；
　May　20；　2：00　P。M。
　
　
　THE　SALE　room　at　Christie's　was　a　simple　space；　framed　in　blond　wood　and　lit　by　a　rectangle　of　lights　suspended　from　the　ceiling。　Although　the　hardwood　floor　had　been　laid　in　a　beautiful　herringbone　pattern；　almost　none　of　it　was　visible　beneath　the　countless　rows　of　chairs　…　all　filled　…　and　the　feet　of　the　reporters；　lateers；　and　spectators　who　crowded　the　rear　of　the　room。
　As　the　chairman　of　Christie's　mounted　the　center　podium；　the　room　fell　silent：　The　long；　cream…colored　screen　behind　him；　which　in　a　normal　auction　might　be　hung　with　paintings　or　prints；　was　vacant。
　The　chairman　rapped　on　the　podium　with　his　gavel；　looked　around；　then　drew　a　card　from　his　suit　and　consulted　it。　He　placed　the　card　carefully　at　one　side　of　the　podium　and　looked　up　again。
　〃I　imagine；〃　he　said；　the　plummy　English　vowels　resonating　under　the　slight　amplification；　〃that　a　few　of　you　may　already　be　aware　of　what　we're　offering　today。〃　
　Decorous　amusement　rippled　through　the　assembly。
　〃I　regret　that　we　could　not　bring　it　to　the　stage　for　you　to　see。　It　was　a　trifle　large。〃
　Another　laugh　floated　through　the　audience。　The　chairman　was　clearly　relishing　the　importance　of　what　was　about　to　happen。
　〃But　I　have　brought　a　small　piece　of　it　…　a　token；　so　to　speak　…　as　assurance　you　will　be　bidding　on　the　genuine　article。〃　With　that　he　nodded；　and　a　slender　young　man　with　the　bearing　of　a　gazelle　walked　out　onstage；　holding　a　small　velvet　box　in　both　arms。　The　man　unlatched　it；　opened　the　lid；　and　turned　in　a　semicircle　for　the　audience　to　see。　A　low　murmur　rose　among　the　crowd；　then　fell　away　again。
　Inside；　a　curved　brown　tooth　lay　nestled　on　white　satin。　It　was　about　seven　inches　long；　with　a　wickedly　serrated　inner　edge。
　The　chairman　cleared　his　throat。　〃The　consigner　of　lot　number　one；　our　only　lot　today；　is　the　Navajo　Nation；　in　a　trust　arrangement　with　the　government　of　the　United　States　of　America。〃
　He　surveyed　the　audience。　〃The　lot　is　a　fossil。　A　remarkable　fossil。〃　He　consulted　the　card　on　the　podium。　〃In　1996；　a　Navajo　shepherd　named　Wilson　Atcitty　lost　some　sheep　in　the　Lukachukai　mountains　along　the　Arizona…New　Mexico　border。　In　attempting　to　find　his　sheep；　he　came　across　a　large　bone　protruding　from　a　sandstone　wall　in　a　remote　canyon。　Geologists　call　this　layer　of　sandstone　the　Hell　Creek　Formation；　and　it　dates　back　to　the　Cretaceous　era。　Word　got　back　to　the　Albuquerque　Museum　of　Natural　History。　Under　an　agreement　with　the　Navajo　Nation；　they　began　excavating　the　skeleton。　As　work　proceeded　they　realized　they　had　not　one　but　two　entwined　skeletons：　a　Tyrannosaurus　rex　and　a　Triceratops。　The　Tyrannosaurus　had　its　jaws　fastened　about　the　Triceratops'　neck；　just　beneath　its　crest；　virtually　decapitating　the　creature　with　a　savage　bite。　The　Triceratops；　for　his　part；　had　thrust　his　central　horn　deep　into　the　chest　of　the　Tyrannosaurus。　Both　animals　died　together；　locked　in　a　terrible　embrace。〃
　He　cleared　his　throat。　〃I　can't　wait　for　the　movie。〃
　There　was　another　round　of　laughter。
　〃The　battle　was　so　violent　that　beneath　the　Triceratops；　paleontologists　found　five　teeth　from　the　Tyrannosaurus　that　had　apparently　broken　off　during　the　heat　of　the　fight。　This　is　one　of　them。〃　He　nodded　to　the　assistant；　who　closed　the　box。
　〃A　block　of　stone　containing　the　two　dinosaurs；　weighing　some　three　hundred　tons；　was　removed　from　the　mountainside　and　stabilized　at　the　Albuquerque　Museum。　It　was　then　taken　to　the　New　York　Museum　of　Natural　History　for　further　preparation。　The　two　skeletons　are　still　partly　embedded　in　the　sandstone　matrix。〃
　He　glanced　at　his　card　again。
　〃According　to　scientists　consulted　by　Christie's；　these　are　the　two　most　perfect　dinosaur　skeletons　ever　found。　They　are　of　incalculable　value　to　science。　The　chief　paleontologist　at　the　New　York　Museum　has　called　it　the　greatest　fossil　discovery　in　history。〃
　He　carefully　replaced　the　card　and　picked　up　the　gavel。　As　if　on　signal；　three　bid　spotters　moved　wraithlike　onto　the　stage；　waiting　at　quiet　attention。　Employees　at　the　telephone　stations　stood　motionless；　phones　in　hand；　lines　open。
　〃We　have　an　estimate　on　this　lot　of　twelve　million　dollars；　and　an　opening　price　of　five　million。〃　The　chairman　tapped　his　gavel。
　There　was　a　faint　smattering　of　calls；　nods；　and　genteelly　raised　paddles。
　〃I　have　five　million。　Six　million。　Thank　you；　I　have　seven　million。〃　The　spotters　craned　their　necks；　catching　the　bids；　relaying　them　to　the　chairman。　The　sotto　voce　hubbub　in　the　hall　gradually　increased。
　〃I　have　eight　million。〃
　A　scattering　of　applause　erupted　as　the　record　price　for　a　dinosaur　fossil　was　broken。
　〃Ten　million。　Eleven　million。　Twelve。　Thank　you；　I　have　thirteen。　I　have　fourteen。　Fifteen。〃
　The　show　of　paddles　had　dwindled　considerably；　but　several　telephone　bidders　were　still　active；　along　with　half　a　dozen　in　the　audience。　The　dollar　display　to　the　chairman's　right　rose　rapidly；　with　the　English　and　Euro　equivalents　beneath　following　in　lockstep。
　〃Eighteen　million。　I　have　eighteen　million。　Nineteen。〃
　The　murmuring　became　a　groundswell　and　the　chairman　gave　a　cautionary　rap　with　his　gavel。　The　bidding　continued；　quietly　but　furiously。　〃Twenty…five　million。　I　have　twenty…six。　Twenty…seven　to　the　gentleman　on　the　right。〃
　The　murmuring　rose　once　again；　and　this　time　the　chairman　did　not　quell　it。
　〃I　have　thirty…two　million。　Thirty…two　and　a　half　on　the　phone。　Thirty…three。　Thank　you；　I　have　thirty…three　and　a　half。　Thirty…four　to　the　lady　in　the　front。〃
　An　electricity　was　building　in　the　sale　room：　the　price　was　mounting　far　higher　than　even　the　wildest　predictions。　
　〃Thirty…five　on　the　phone。　Thirty…five　and　a　half　to　the　lady。　Thirty…six。〃
　Then　there　was　a　small　stir　in　the　crowd；　a　rustle；　a　shifting　of　attention。　A　number　of　eyes　turned　toward　the　door　leading　out　into　the　main　gallery。　Standing　on　the　crescent…moon　steps　was　a　remarkable…looking　man　of　about　sixty；　a　massive；　even　overwhelming　presence。　He　had　a　shaved　head　and　a　dark　Vandyke　beard。　A　Valentino　suit　of　dark　blue　silk　was　draped　over　his　imposing　frame；　shimmering　slightly　in　the　light　when　he　moved。　A　Turnbull　&　Asser　shirt；　unpromisingly　white；　lay　open　at　the　neck。　Over　it　was　a　string　tie；　held　in　place　by　a　fist…size　piece　of　amber；　containing　the　only　Archaeopteryx　feather　ever　found。
　〃Thirty…six　million；〃　the　chairman　repeated。　But　his　eyes；　like　everyone　else's；　had　strayed　toward　the　new　arrival。　The　man　stood　on　the　steps；　his　blue　eyes　sparkling　with　vitality　and　some　private　amusement。　He　slowly　raised　his　paddle。　A　hush　fell。　On　the　remote　chance　anybody　in　the　crowd　had　not　recognized　the　man；　the　paddle　was　a　give…away：　it　was　numbered　001；　the　only　number　Christie's　had　ever　allowed　to　be　given　permanently　to　a　client。
　The　chairman　looked　at　him；　expectantly。
　〃One　hundred；〃　the　man　said　at　last；　softly　but　precisely。　
　　The　hush　deepened　〃I　beg　your　pardon？〃　The　chairman's　voice　was　dry。
　〃One　hundred　million　dollars；〃　the　man　said。　His　teeth　were　very　large；　very　straight；　and　very　white。
　Again　the　silence　was　absolute。
　〃I　have　a　bid　of　one　hundred　million；〃　said　the　chairman；　a　little　shakily。
　Time　seemed　to　have　been　suspended。　A　telephone　rang　somewhere　in　the　building；　at　the　edge　of　audibility；　and　the　sound　of　a　car　horn　filtered　up　from　the　avenue。
　Then　the　spell　was　broken　with　a　smart　rap　of　the　gavel。　〃Lot　number　one；　for　one　hundred　million　dollars；　sold　to　Palmer　Lloyd！〃
　The　room　erupted。　In　a　flash　everyone　was　on　their　feet。　There　was　exuberant　clapping；　cheers；　a　call　of　〃bravo〃　as　if　a　great　tenor　had　just　concluded　the　performance　of　his　career。　Others　were　not　as　pleased；　and　the　cheering　and　clapping　was　interlaced　with　hisses　of　disapproval；　catcalls；　low　boos。　Christie's　had　never　witnessed　a　crowd　so　close　to　hysteria：　all　the　participants；　pro　and　con；　were　well　aware　that　history　had　just　been　made。　But　the　man　who　had　caused　it　all　was　gone；　out　through　the　main　gallery；　down　the　green　carpet　past　the　cashier　…　and　the　multitude　found　themselves　addressing　an　empty　doorway。
　
　Kalahari　Desert；
　June　1；　6：45　P。M。
　
　SAM　MCFARLANE　sat　cross…legged　in　the　dust。　The　evening　fire；　built　of　twigs　on　bare　ground；　ca