alistairmaclean.icestationzebra-第13章

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　 〃Very　heavy　ice；〃　Benson　intoned。　〃Thirty　feet；　forty　feet；　fifty　feet。　Very；　very　heavy　ice。〃
　 〃Just　too　bad　if　your　torpedo　ended　up　under　a　pile　like　the　stuff　above　us　just　now；〃　I　said。　〃I　doubt　if　it　would　even　chip　off　the　bottom　layer。〃
　 〃We'll　take　care　that　doesn't　happen。　We'll　just　find　a　suitably　large　layer　of　ice　of　normal　thickness；　kind　of　back　off　a　thousand　yards；　and　then　let　go。〃　
　 〃Thin　ice！〃　Benson's　voice　wasn't　a　shout；　it　was　a　bellow。　〃Thin　ice。　No；　by　God；　clear　water！　Clear　water！　Lovely；　clear；　clear　water！〃
　 My　immediate　reaction　was　that　either　the　ice　machine　or　Benson's　brain　had　blown　a　fuse。　But　the　officer　at　the　diving　panel　had　no　such　doubts；　for　I　had　to　grab　and　hang　on　hard　as　the　〃Dolphin〃　heeled　over　violently　to　port　and　came　curving　around；　engines　slowing；　in　a　tight　circle　to　bring　her　back　to　the　spot　where　Benson　had　called　out。　Swanson　watched　the　plot；　spoke　quietly；　and　the　big　bronze　propellers　reversed　and　bit　into　the　water　to　bring　the　〃Dolphin〃　to　a　stop。
　 〃How's　it　looking　now；　Doc？〃　Swanson　called　out。
　 〃Clear；　clear　water；〃　Benson　said　reverently。　〃I　got　a　good　picture　of　it。　It's　pretty　narrow；　but　wide　enough　to　hold　us。　It's　long；　with　a　sharp　left…hand　dogleg；　for　it　followed　us　around　through　the　first　forty…five　degrees　of　our　curve。〃
　 〃One　fifty　feet；〃　Swanson　said。
　 The　pumps　hummed。　The　〃Dolphin〃　drifted　gently　upward　like　an　airship　rising　from　the　ground。　Briefly；　water　flooded　back　into　the　tanks。　The　〃Dolphin〃　hung　motionless。
　 〃Up　periscope；〃　Swanson　said。
　 The　periscope　hissed　up　slowly　into　the　raised　position。　Swanson　glanced　briefly　through　the　eyepiece；　then　beckoned　to　me。　〃Take　a　look；〃　he　beamed。　〃As　lovely　a　sight　as　you'll　ever　see。〃
　 I　took　a　look。　If　you'd　made　a　picture　of　what　could　be　seen　above　and　framed　it；　you　couldn't　have　sold　the　result　even　if　you　added　Picasso's　name　to　it；　but　I　could　see　what　he　meant。　Solid　black　masses　on　either　side　with　a　scarcely　lighter　strip　of　dark　jungle　green　running　between　them　on　a　line　with　the　fore…and…aft　direction　of　the　ship。　An　open　lead　in　the　polar　pack。　
　 Three　minutes　later　we　were　lying　on　the　surface　of　the　Arctic　Ocean；　just　under　250　miles　from　the　Pole。
　
　
　 The　rafted；　twisted　ice　pack　reared　up　into　contorted　ridges　almost　fifty　feet　in　height；　towering　twenty　feet　above　the　top　of　the　sail；　so　close　you　could　almost　reach　out　and　touch　the　nearest　ridge。　Three　or　four　of　those　broken　and　fantastically　hummocked　ice　hills　stretching　off　to　the　west；　and　then　the　light　of　the　floodlight　failed　and　we　could　see　no　more。　Beyond　that　there　was　only　blackness。
　 To　the　east；　we　could　see　nothing　at　all。　To　have　stared　Out　to　the　east　with　opened　eyes　would　have　been　to　be　blinded　for　life　in　a　very　few　seconds：　even　goggles　became　clouded　and　scarred　after　the　briefest　exposure。　Close　in　to　the　〃Dolphin's〃　side　you　could；　with　bent　head　and　hooded　eyes；　catch；　for　a　fleeting　part　of　a　second；　a　glimpse　of　black　water；　already　freezing　over；　but　it　was　more　imagined　than　seen。
　 The　wind；　shrieking　and　wailing　across　the　bridge　and　through　raised　antennae；　showed　at　consistently　over　sixty　mph　on　the　bridge　anemometer。　The　ice　storm　was　no　longer　the　gusting；　swirling　fog　of　that　morning　but　a　driving　wall　of　stiletto…tipped　spears；　near…lethal　in　its　ferocity；　highspeed　ice…spicule　lances　that　would　have　skewered　their　way　through　the　thickest　cardboard　or　shattered　in　a　second　a　glass　held　in　your　hand。　Over　and　above　the　ululating　threnody　of　the　wind　we　could　hear　an　almost　constant　grinding；　crashing；　and　deep…throated　booming　as　millions　of　tons　of　racked　and　tortured　ice；　under　the　influence　of　the　gale　and　some　mighty　pressure　center　heaven　knew　how　many　hundreds　of　miles　away；　reared　and　twisted　and　tore　and　cracked；　one　moment　forming　another　rafted　ridge　as　a　layer　of　ice；　perhaps　ten　feet　thick；　screeched　and　roared　and　clambered　on　to　the　shoulders　of　another　and　then　another；　the　next　rending　apart　in　indescribably　violent　cacophony　to　open　up　a　new　lead；　black；　wind…torn　water　that　started　to　skim　over　with　ice　almost　as　soon　as　it　was　formed。
　 〃Are　we　both　mad？　Let's　get　below。〃　Swanson　cupped　his　hands　to　my　ear　and　had　to　shout；　but；　even　so；　I　could　hardly　hear　him　above　that　hellish　bedlam　of　sound。
　 We　clambered　down　into　the　paratively　sudden　stillness　of　the　control　room。　Swanson　untied　his　parka　hood　and　pulled　off　the　scarf　and　goggles　that　had　pletely　masked　his　face。　He　looked　at　me　and　shook　his　head　wonderingly。
　 〃And　some　people　talk　about　the　white　silence　of　the　Arctic；　My　God；　a　boilermaker's　shop　is　like　a　library　reading　room　pared　to　that。〃　He　shook　his　head　again。　〃We　stuck　our　noses　out　a　few　times　above　the　ice　pack　last　year；　but　we　never　saw　anything　like　this。　Or　heard　it。　Winter；　too。　Cold；　sure；　damned　cold；　and　windy；　but　never　so　bad　that　we　couldn't　take　a　brief　stroll　on　the　ice；　and　I　used　to　wonder　about　those　stories　of　explorers　being　stuck　in　their　tents　for　days　on　end；　unable　to　move。　But　I　know　now　why　Captain　Scott　died。〃
　 〃It　is　pretty　nasty；〃　I　admitted。　〃How　safe　are　we　here；　mander？〃
　 〃That's　anybody's　guess。〃　Swanson　shrugged。　〃The　wind's　got　us　jammed　hard　against　the　west　wall　of　this　polynya；　and　there's　maybe　fifty　yards　of　open　water　to　starboard。　For　the　moment　we're　safe。　But　you　can　hear　and　see　that　that　pack　is　on　the　move；　and　not　slowly；　either。　The　lead　we're　in　was　torn　open　less　than　an　hour　ago。　How　long？　Depends　on　the　configuration　of　the　ice；　but　those　polynyas　can　close　up　damned　quickly　at　times；　and　while　the　hull　of　the　Dolphin　can　take　a　good　deal　of　pressure；　it　can't　take　a　million　tons　of　ice　leaning　against　it。　Maybe　we　can　stay　here　for　hours；　maybe　only　for　minutes。　Whichever　it　is；　as　soon　as　that　east　wall　es　within　ten　feet　of　the　starboard　side；　we're　dropping　down　out　of　it。　You　know　what　happens　when　a　ship　gets　caught　in　the　ice。〃
　 〃I　know。　It　gets　squeezed　flat；　is　carried　around　the　top　of　the　world　for　a　few　years；　and　then　one　day　it's　released；　and　drops　to　the　bottom；　two　miles　straight　down。　The　U。　S。　government　wouldn't　like　it；　mander。〃
　 〃The　prospects　of　further　promotion　for　mander　Swanson　would　be　poor；〃　Swanson　admitted。　〃I　think〃
　 〃Hey！〃　The　shout　came　from　the　radio　room。　〃Hey；　e　'ere。〃
　 〃I　think　Zabrinski　wants　me；〃　Swanson　murmured。　He　moved　off　with　his　usual　deceptive　speed；　and　I　followed　him　into　the　radio　room。　Zabrinski　was　sitting　half　turned　in　his　chair；　an　ear…to…ear　beam　on　his　face；　the　earphones　extended　in　his　left　hand。　Swanson　took　them；　listened　briefly；　then　nodded。　
　 〃DSY；〃　he　said　softly。　〃DSY；　Dr。　Carpenter。　We　have　them。　Got　the　bearing？　Good。〃　He　turned　to　the　quartermaster。　〃Ellis；　ask　the　navigating　officer　to　e　here　as　soon　as　possible。〃
　 〃We'll　pick　'em　all　up　yet；　Captain；〃　Zabrinski　said　jovially。　The　smile　on　the　big　man's　face；　I　could　see　now；　didn't　extend　as　far　as　his　eyes。　〃They　must　be　a　pretty　tough　bunch　of　boys　out　there。〃
　 〃Very　tough；　Zabrinski；〃　Swanson　said　absently。　His　eyes　were　remote；　and　I　knew　he　was　listening　to　the　metallic　cannonading　of　the　ice　spicules；　a　billion　tiny　pneumatic　chisels　drumming　away　continuously　against　the　outer　hull　of　the　submarine；　a　sound　loud　enough　to　make　low　speech　impossible。　〃Very　tough。　Are　you　in　two…way　contact？〃
　 Zabrinski　shook　his　head　and　turned　away。　He'd　stopped　smiling。　Raeburn　came　in；　and　was　handed　a　sheet　of　paper；　and　left　for　his　plotting　table。　We　went　with　him。　After　a　minute　or　two　he　looked　up　and　said；　〃If　anyone　likes　a　Sunday　afternoon's　walk；　this　is　it。〃
　 〃So　close？〃　Swanson　asked。
　 〃So　very　close。　Five　miles　due　east；　give　or　take　half　a　mile。　Pretty　fair　bloodhounds；　aren't　we？〃
　 〃We're　just　lucky；〃　Swanson　said　shortly。　He　walked　back　to　the　radio　room。　〃Talking　to　them　yet？〃
　 〃We've　lost　them　altogether。〃
　 〃pletely？〃
　 〃We　only　had　'em　a　minute；　Captain。　Then　they　faded。　Got　weaker　and　weaker。　I　think　Doc　Carpenter　here　is　right：　they're　using　a　hand…cranked　generator。〃　He　paused；　then　said　idly；　〃i've　a　six…year…old　daughter　who　could　crank　one　of　those　machines　for　five　minutes　without　turning　a　hair。〃
　 Swanson　looked　at　me；　then　turned　away　without　a　word。　I　followed　him　to　the　unoccupied　diving　stand。　From　the　bridge…access　hatch　we　could　hear　the　howl　of　the　storm；　the　grinding　ice　with　its　boom　and　scream　that　spanned　the　entire　register　of　hearing。　Swanson　said；　〃Zabrinski　put　it　very　well。。　。　。　I　wonder　how　long　this　damned　storm　is　going　to　last？〃
　 〃Too　long。　I　have　a　medical　kit　in　my　cabin；　a　fifty…ounce　flask　of　medicinal　alcohol；　and　cold…weather　clothes。　Could　you　supply　me　with　a　thirty…pound　package　of　emergency　rations；　high…protein；　high…calory　concentrates？　Benson　will　know　what　I　mean。〃
　 〃Do　you　mean　what　I　think　you　mean？〃　Swanson　said　slowly。　〃Or　am　I　just　going　nuts？〃
　 〃What's　this　about　going　nuts？〃　Hansen　had　just　e　through　the　doorway　leading　to　the　for'ard　passageway；　and　the　grin　on　his　face　was　clear　enough　indication　that　though　he'd　caught　Swanson's　last　words；　he'd　caught　neither　the　intonation　nor　the　expression　on　the　captain's　face。　〃Very　serious　state　of　affairs；　going　nuts。　I'll　have　to　assume　mand　and　put　you　in　irons；　Captain。　Something　about　it　in　regulations；　I　daresay。〃
　 〃Dr。　Carpenter　is　proposing　to　sling　a　bag　of　provisions　on　his　back　and　proceed　to　Drift　Station　Zebra　on　foot。〃
　 〃You've　picked　them　up　again？〃　For　the　moment；　Hansen　had　forgotten　me。　〃You　really　got　them？　And　a　crossbearing？〃
　 〃Just　this　minute。　We've　hit　it　almost　on　the　nose。　Five　miles；　Raeburn　says。〃
　 〃My　God！　Five　miles。　Only　five　miles！〃　Then　the　elation　vanished　from　voice　and　face　as　if　an　internal　switch　had　been　touched。　〃In　weather　like　this；　it　might　as　well　be　five　hundred。　Even　old　Amundsen　couldn't　have　moved　ten　yards　through　this　stuff。〃
　 〃Dr。　Carpenter　evidently　thinks　he　can　improve　on　AmundSen's　standards；〃　Swanson　said　dryly。　〃He's　talking　about　walking　there。〃
　 Hansen　looked　at　me　for　a　long　and　considering　moment；　then　turned　back　to　Swanson。　〃I　think　maybe　it's　Doc　Carpenter　we　should　be　locking　up　in　irons。〃
　 〃I　think　maybe　it　is；〃　Swanson　said。
　 〃Look；〃　I　said。　〃There　are　men　out　there　on　Drift　Station　Zebra。　Maybe　not　many；　not　now；　but　there　are　some。　One；　anyway。　Men　a　long　way　past　being　sick。　Dying　men。　To　a　dying　man；　it　takes　only　the　very　smallest　thing　to　spell　out　the　difference　between　life　and　death。　I'm　a　doctor；　I　know。　The　smallest　thing。　An　ounce　of　alcohol；　a　few　ounces　of　food；　a　hot　drink；　some　medicine。　Then　they'll　live。　Without　those　little　things；　they　will　surely　die。　They're　entitled　to　what　smallest　aid　they　can　get；　and　I'm　entitled　to　take　whatever　risks　I　care　to　to　see　they　get　it。　I'm　not　asking　anyone　else　to　go；　all　I'm　asking　is　that　you　implement　the　terms　of　your　orders　from　Washington　to　give　me　all　possible　assistance　without　endangering　the　〃Dolphin〃　or　its　crew。　Threatening　to　stop　me　is　not　my　idea　of　giving　assistance。　And　I　am　not　asking　you　to　endanger　your　submarine　or　the　lives　of　your　men。〃
　 Swanson　gazed　at　the　floor。　I　wondered　what　he　was　thinking：　the　b