p&c.thunderhead-第58章

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　〃When　I　examined　this　powder　under　the　microscope；　I　found　it　absolutely　packed　with　Coccidioides　immitis。　It　is；　quite　literally；　corpse　powder　that　really　kills。〃　
　〃And　you　think　Holroyd　was　murdered　with　it？〃　
　〃Given　the　huge　dose　he　must　have　received　to　die　so　quickly；　I　would　say　yes。　Although　his　illness　was　surely　made　worse　by　constant　exposure　to　dust。　He　did　quite　a　lot　of　digging　in　the　rear　of　the　ruin　in　the　days　before　his　death。　The　fact　is；　we've　all　been　exposed　to　it。〃　
　〃I　did　my　share　of　digging；〃　Smithback　said；　his　voice　a　little　shaky。　〃How　much　longer　before　we　get　sick；　too？〃　
　〃I　don't　know。　A　lot　depends　on　the　health　of　our　immune　systems；　and　on　the　degree　of　exposure。　I　believe　the　fungus　is　much　more　concentrated　in　the　rear　of　the　city。　But　regardless；　it's　vital　that　we　get　out　of　here　and　get　treatment　as　soon　as　possible。〃　
　〃So　there's　a　cure？〃　Smithback　asked。　
　〃Yes。　Ketoconazole；　or　in　advanced　cases　where　the　fungus　has　invaded　the　central　nervous　system；　amphotericin　B　injected　directly　into　the　cerebrospinal　fluid。　The　ironic　thing　is；　ampho　is　a　mon　antibiotic。　I　almost　brought　some　along。〃　
　〃How　sure　are　you　about　this？〃　asked　Nora。　
　〃As　sure　I　can　be　without　more　equipment。　I'd　need　a　better　microscope　to　be　absolutely　sure；　because　in　tissue　the　spherules　are　only　about　fifty　microns　in　diameter。　But　nothing　else　explains　the　onset　of　symptoms：　the　cyanosis；　dyspnea；　the　mucopurulent　sputum　。　。　。　the　sudden　death。　And　the　simple　test　I　just　performed　on　Peter's　lung　tissue　confirmed　the　presence　of　coccidioidin　antibodies。〃　He　sighed。　〃It's　only　in　the　last　day　or　so　that　I　began　putting　this　together。　Late　yesterday　evening；　I　spent　some　time　in　the　ruin；　and　found　other　examples　of　corpse　powder　stored　in　pots；　as　well　as　various　odd　types　of　tools。　From　this；　and　from　all　the　trashed　bones　in　the　Crawlspace；　it　became　quite　clear　that　the　inhabitants　of　Quivira　were　actually　manufacturing　corpse　powder。　As　a　result；　the　whole　city　is　contaminated　with　it。　The　entire　subsoil　of　the　ruin　is　full　of　the　spores；　its　density　increasing　toward　the　back。　That　puts　the　greatest　concentration　in　the　Crawlspace；　and　especially　in　the　cavern　of　the　Sun　Kiva　that　Black　discovered。〃　
　He　paused。　〃I　told　you　my　theory　that　this　city　was　not　really　Anasazi　after　all。　It　was　Aztecan　in　origin。　These　people　brought　human　sacrifice　and　witchcraft　to　the　Anasazi。　It's　my　belief　that　they　are　the　marauders；　the　conquerors；　who　caused　the　collapse　of　Anasazi　civilization　and　the　abandonment　of　the　Colorado　Plateau。　They　are　the　mysterious　enemies　of　the　Anasazi　that　archaeologists　have　sought　all　these　years。　These　enemies　did　not　kill　and　exert　control　through　open　warfare；　which　is　why　we've　never　found　the　evidence　of　violence。　Their　means　of　conquest　and　control　were　more　subtle。　Witchcraft　and　the　use　of　corpse　powder。　Which　leaves　little　or　no　trace。〃　
　His　voice　fell。　〃When　I　first　analyzed　that　burial　cyst　Sloane　uncovered；　I　felt　it　to　be　a　result　of　cannibalism。　The　marks　on　the　bones　seemed　to　point　to　that。　In　fact；　Black's　protests　to　the　contrary；　it　was　the　obvious　deduction　to　make：　Anasazi　cannibalism　is　currently　a　hot；　if　controversial；　theory。　But　I　no　longer　think　cannibalism　is　at　the　bottom　of　all　this。　I　now　believe　those　marks　on　the　bones　tell　an　even　more　terrible　tale。〃　
　He　looked　at　Nora　with　haunted　eyes。　〃I　believe　the　priests　of　the　city　were　infecting　prisoners　or　slaves　with　the　disease；　waiting　for　them　to　die；　and　then　processing　their　bodies　to　make　corpse　powder。　The　trash　from　that　terrible　operation　lies　in　the　back　of　the　cave。　With　the　powder；　these　conquerors　could　maintain　their　rule　through　ritual　and　terror。　But　in　the　end；　the　fungus　turned　on　them。　The　mild　earthquake　that　damaged　the　towers　and　caused　the　landslide　must　have　raised　a　tectonic　fungal　cloud　in　the　valley　here；　just　like　in　San　Joaquin。　Except　that　here；　in　the　confined　space　of　the　canyon；　the　dustcloud　had　no　place　to　go。　It　filled　the　alcove；　enshrouded　the　city　of　Quivira。　All　those　skeletons；　thrown　atop　the　broken　bodies　in　the　back　of　the　cave；　were　its　priestly　Aztec　victims。〃　
　Aragon　stopped　speaking　and　looked　away　from　Nora。　His　face；　she　thought；　had　never　looked　so　drawn；　so　exhausted。　
　〃Now；　it's　time　for　me　to　tell　you　something；〃　Nora　replied　slowly。　〃Modern…day　witches　may　be　the　ones　trying　to　drive　us　out　of　the　valley。〃　She　briefly　told　Aragon　about　the　attack　in　the　ranch　house　and　the　more　recent　conversation　with　Beiyoodzin。　〃They　followed　us　out　here；〃　she　concluded。　〃And　now　that　they've　found　the　site；　they're　trying　to　drive　us　away　so　they　can　loot　it　for　themselves。〃　
　Aragon　thought　for　a　moment；　then　shook　his　head。　〃No；〃　he　said。　〃No；　I　don't　think　they're　here　to　loot　the　city。〃　
　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃　Smithback　interjected。　〃Why　else　would　they　be　trying　to　drive　us　away？〃　
　〃Oh；　I　don't　dispute　they're　trying　to　drive　us　away。　But　it's　not　to　loot　the　city。〃　He　glanced　once　again　at　Nora。　〃You've　been　assuming　all　along　that　these　skinwalkers　were　trying　to　find　the　city。　What　if　they　were　actually　trying　to　protect　it？〃　
　〃I　don't…〃　Smithback　began。　
　〃Just　a　minute；〃　Nora　broke　in。　She　was　thinking　quickly。　
　〃How　else　could　they　have　traced　us　here　so　quickly？〃　Aragon　asked。　〃And；　if　indeed　they　killed　Holroyd　with　corpse　powder；　where　else　could　they　have　gotten　it；　except　from　this　place？〃　
　〃So　they　weren't　after　the　letter　to　learn　Quivira's　location；〃　Nora　murmured。　〃They　wanted　to　destroy　the　letter。　To　keep　us　from　ing　here。〃　
　〃Nothing　else　makes　sense　to　me；〃　Aragon　replied。　〃Once；　I　believed　that　Quivira　was　a　city　of　priests。　Now；　I　believe　it　was　a　city　of　witches。〃　
　They　sat　a　moment　longer；　three　figures　ranged　around　the　still　form　of　Holroyd。　Then　a　sudden　breeze；　chill　with　moisture；　stirred　the　hair　on　Nora's　forehead。　
　〃We'd　better　get　going；〃　she　said；　rising。　〃Let's　get　Peter's　body　out　of　the　canyon。〃　
　Silently；　they　began　rewrapping　the　body　in　the　ripped　drysack。　
　
　
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　AS　JOHN　BEIYOODZIN　URGED　HIS　HORSE　down　the　trail　into　the　valley　of　Chilbah；　his　heart　quickly　sank。　From　the　first　switchback；　he　could　make　out　the　expedition's　horses；　the　remuda　was　watering　at　the　stream。　The　tiny　creek　meandered　down　the　center　of　a　great　flood…plain；　torn　and　guttered；　scattered　with　boulders　and　tree　trunks。　He　glanced　upward　anxiously；　but　the　thunderhead　was　now　out　of　sight；　hidden　behind　the　fin　of　rock。　
　He　knew　only　too　well　that　this　valley　was　a　bottleneck　for　the　vast　watershed　of　the　Kaiparowits。　The　flood；　ing　down　the　miles　off　the　Kaiparowits　Plateau；　would　gradually　coalesce　as　the　canyons　came　together　in　the　upper　reaches　of　the　Chilbah　Valley。　It　was　all　uninhabited；　from　the　Kaiparowits　to　the　Colorado　River…except　for　the　archaeologists　in　the　valley　beyond；　which　lay　directly　in　the　path　of　the　water。　
　He　looked　to　his　right；　where　the　valley　broke　up　into　a　series　of　canyons　and　dry　washes。　The　water　ing　off　the　Kaiparowits　Plateau　would　enter　the　Chilbah　Valley　through　these　circuitous；　twisting　canyons。　It　would　then　race　through　the　lower　valley　in　one　overwhelming　mass。　It　would　be　colossal；　covering　the　entire　floodplain　and　probably　tearing　into　the　banks。　If　the　horses　weren't　moved　well　out　of　the　plain　and　up　into　the　high　benchlands　on　either　side　of　the　valley；　they　would　be　swept　away。　Many　of　his　people's　horses　had　died　in　flash　floods。　It　was　a　terrible　thing。　And　if　there　were　people　on　the　floodplain　of　the　valley　beyond…or；　even　worse；　in　the　slot　canyon　that　connected　the　two　valleys　。　。　。　
　He　urged　his　horse　into　a　plunging　lope　down　the　rubbled　trail。　He　just　might　have　time　to　reach　the　horses　and　scare　them　up　to　higher　ground。　
　Within　five　minutes　he　had　reached　the　bottom；　his　horse　heaving　and　slick。　He　let　the　animal　drink　at　the　creek；　all　the　while　listening　up　the　valley　with　a　keen　ear　for　the　sound　he　knew　only　too　well：　the　peculiar　vibration　that　signaled　a　flash　flood。　
　Out　of　sight　of　the　thunderhead；　the　horse　was　calmer；　and　he　drank　deeply。　When　he　had　slaked　his　thirst；　Beiyoodzin　steered　the　animal　across　the　floodplain；　then　urged　him　up　the　steep　banks。　Once　up　in　the　rocky　benchlands　well　away　from　the　stream；　he　kicked　the　buckskin　into　a　lope；　then　a　hand　gallop。　As　long　as　they　stayed　on　the　high　ground；　they　would　be　safe。　
　As　he　galloped；　winding　among　huge　boulders　and　outcrops　of　rock；　Beiyoodzin's　thoughts　returned　to　the　people　in　the　second；　smaller　valley　beyond。　He　wondered　if　they　would　hear　the　flood　ing。　He　knew　there　was　some　benchland　on　either　side　of　the　creek；　and　he　hoped　the　people　had　known　enough　to　pitch　their　camp　up　there。　The　woman；　Nora；　had　seemed　to　know　a　little　about　the　ways　of　the　desert。　They　could　survive　if　they　were　smart…and　if　they　heeded　the　warnings。　
　Suddenly；　he　reined　his　horse　to　a　violent　stop。　As　the　flurry　of　sand　subsided　around　them；　Beiyoodzin　remained　still；　listening　intently。　
　It　was　ing。　So　far；　it　was　only　a　vibration　in　the　ground；　an　unsettling　tingle　in　his　bones。　But　it　was　unmistakable。　
　He　clicked　his　tongue　and　urged　the　horse　forward。　At　a　dead　run；　the　buckskin　flashed　across　the　sandy　ground；　leaping　rocks　and　bushes；　dodging　cottonwoods；　racing　toward　the　grazing　horses。　Now；　he　could　hear　the　ugly　sound　rising　up　in　the　valley；　even　over　the　noise　of　his　own　galloping　horse。　It　was　a　sound　without　direction；　ing　from　everywhere　and　nowhere　at　once；　climbing　quickly　in　pitch　from　the　subsonic　to　a　shriek。　Along　with　it　came　a　wind　that　started　as　a　gentle　breeze　and　quickly　gained　strength；　shivering　the　leaves　of　the　cottonwoods。　
　Again　in　his　mind's　eye　he　saw　a　world　out　of　balance。　Sixteen　years　ago；　it　had　seemed　a　small；　harmless　thing　indeed。　Ignore　it；　everyone　had　said。　If　these　were　to　be　the　consequence　of　that　action；　they　were　terrible　consequences　indeed。　
　He　reached　the　edge　of　the　benchland。　Below；　in　the　floodplain；　he　could　see　the　expedition's　horses。　They　had　stopped　grazing　now　and　were　standing　alert；　their　ears　pricked　up；　staring　upstream。　But　it　was　already　too　late　to　save　them。　To　ride　down　into　the　floodplain　now　would　be　suicide。　He　shouted　and　waved　his　hat；　but　his　voice　did　not　carry　above　the　growing　roar；　and　the　herd's　attention　was　elsewhere。　
　The　ground　trembled。　As　the　noise　continued　to　intensify；　Beiyoodzin　became　unable　to　separate　the　terrified　whinnies　of　his　own　horse　from　the　scream　of　the　ing　water。　He　looked　upstream；　into　the　maw　of　an　even　stronger　wind　that　thrashed　at　the　salt　cedars　and　pressed　the　willows　almost　horizontal　to　the　ground。　
　Then　he　saw　it　e　around　the　bend：　a　vertical　wall　twenty　feet　high；　moving　with　the　speed　of　a　freight　train；　driving　the　howling　wind　before　it。　
　But　it　was　not　a　wall　of　water。　Instead；　Beiyoodzin　beheld　a　seething　rampart　of　tree　trunks；　roots；　boulders；　and　boiling　dirt；　a　huge　churning　mass；　pushed　ahead　by　the　flood　at　eighty　miles　an　hour。　He　struggled　to　control　his　horse。　
　The　horses　below　wheeled　in　hopeless　fright　and　ran。　As　Beiyoodzin　watched…in　a　mixture　of　amazement；　horror；　and　fearful　reverence…t