alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第2部分

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ter　of　seconds　and　stinging　the　narrow　exposed　area　of　my　face　between　mask　and　goggles　like　a　thousand　infuriated　hornets。　A　sharp；　exquisite　pain；　a　pain　that　vanished　almost　in　the　moment　of　arrival　as　the　countless　sub…zero　spicules　dug　deep　with　their　anaesthetising　needles　and　drove　out　all　sensation　from　the　skin。　But　I　knew　this　ominous　absence　of　feeling　all　too　well。　Once　again　I　turned　my　back　to　the　wind；　kneaded　the　deadened　flesh　with　mittened　hands　till　the　blood　came　throbbing　back；　then　pulled　my　snow…mask　higher　still。
　
　The　plane　was　flying　in　an　anti…clockwise　direction；　following；　it　seemed；　the　path　of　an　irregular　oval；　for　the　sound　of　its　motors　faded　slightly　as　it　curved　round　to　north　and　west。　But　within　thirty　seconds　it　was　approaching　again；　in　a　swelling　thunder　of　sound；　to　the　south…west…to　the　leeward　of　us；　that　was…and　I　could　tell　from　Jackstraw's　explosive　ejaculation　of　sound；　muffled　behind　his　mask；　that　he　had　seen　it　at　the　same　moment　as　myself。
　
　It　was　less　than　half　a　mile　distant；　no　more　than　five　hundred　feet　above　the　ice…cap；　and　during　the　five　seconds　it　remained　inside　my　line　of　vision　I　felt　my　mouth　go　dry　and　my　heart　begin　to　thud　heavily　in　my　chest。　No　SAC　bomber　this；　nor　a　Thule　met。　plane；　both　with　crews　highly　trained　in　the　grim　craft　of　Arctic　survival。　That　long　row　of　brightly　illuminated　cabin　windows　could　belong　to　only　one　thing…a　trans…Atlantic　or　trans…polar　airliner。
　
　〃You　saw　it；　Dr　Mason？〃　Jackstraw's　snow…mask　was　close　to　my　ear。
　
　〃I　saw　it。〃　It　was　all　I　could　think　to　say。　But　what　I　was　seeing　then　was　not　the　plane；　now　again　vanished　into　the　flying　ice　and　drift；　but　the　inside　of　the　plane；　with　the　passengers…God；　how　many　passengers；　fifty；　seventy？…sitting　in　the　cosy　security　of　their　pressurised　cabin　with　an　air…conditioned　temperature　of　70°　F；　then　the　crash；　the　tearing；　jagged　screeching　that　set　the　teeth　on　edge　as　the　thin　metal　shell　ripped　along　its　length　and　the　tidal　wave　of　that　dreadful　cold；　110　degrees　below　cabin　temperature；　swept　in　and　engulfed　the　survivors；　the　dazed；　the　injured；　the　unconscious　and　the　dying　as　they　sat　or　lay　crumpled　in　the　wreckage　of　the　seats；　clad　only　in　thin　suits　and　dresses。　。　。　。
　
　The　plane　had　pleted　a　full　circuit　and　was　ing　round　again。　If　anything；　it　was　even　closer　this　time；　at　least　a　hundred　feet　lower；　and　it　seemed　to　have　lost　some　speed。　It　might　have　been　doing　120；　perhaps　130　miles　an　hour；　I　was　no　expert　in　these　things；　but　for　that　size　of　plane；　so　close　to　the　ground；　it　seemed　a　dangerously　low　speed。　I　wondered　just　how　effective　the　pilot's　windscreen　wipers　would　be　against　these　flying　ice　spicules。
　
　And　then　I　forgot　all　about　that；　forgot　all　about　everything　except　the　desperate；　urgent　need　for　speed。　Just　before　the　plane　had　turned　round　to　the　east　again　and　so　out　of　the　line　of　our　blinded　vision；　it　had　seemed　to　dip　and　at　the　same　instant　two　powerful　lights　stabbed　out　into　the　darkness；　the　one　lancing　straight　ahead；　a　narrow　powerful　beam　glittering　and　gleaming　with　millions　of　sparkling　diamond　points　of　flame　as　the　ice…crystals　in　the　air　flashed　across　its　path；　the　other；　a　broader　fan　of　light；　pointing　downwards　and　only　slightly　ahead；　its　oval　outline　flitting　across　the　frozen　snow　like　some　flickering　will　o'　the　wisp。　I　grabbed　Jackstraw's　arm　and　put　my　head　close　to　his。
　
　〃He's　going　to　land！　He's　looking　for　a　place　to　put　down。　Get　the　dogs；　harness　them　up。〃　We　had　a　tractor；　but　heaven　only　knew　how　long　it　would　have　taken　to　start　it　on　a　night　like　this。　〃I'll　give　you　a　hand　as　soon　as　I　can。〃
　
　He　nodded；　turned　and　was　lost　to　sight　in　a　moment。　I　turned　too；　cursed　as　my　face　collided　with　the　slatted　sides　of　the　instrument　shelter；　then　jumped　for　the　hatch；　sliding　down　to　the　floor　of　the　cabin　on　back　and　arms　without　bothering　to　use　the　steps。　Joss；　already　pletely　clad　in　his　furs　but　with　the　hood　of　his　parka　hanging　over　his　shoulders；　was　just　emerging　from　the　food　and　fuel　tunnel　which　led　off　from　the　other　end　of　the　cabin；　his　arms　loaded　with　equipment。
　
　〃Grab　all　the　warm　clothing　you　can　find；　Joss；〃　I　told　him　quickly。　I　was　trying　to　think　as　quickly　and　coherently　as　I　was　talking；　to　figure　out　everything　that　we　might　require；　but　it　wasn't　easy；　that　intense　cold　numbed　the　mind　almost　as　much　as　it　did　the　body。　〃Sleeping…bags；　blankets；　spare　coats；　shirts；　it　doesn't　matter　whose　they　are。　Shove　them　into　a　couple　of　gunny　sacks。〃
　
　〃You　think　they're　going　to　land；　sir？〃　Curiosity；　anticipation；　horror…each　struggled　for　supremacy　in　the　thin；　dark　intelligent　face。　〃You　really　think　so？〃
　
　〃I　think　they're　going　to　try。　What　have　you　got　there？〃
　
　〃Fire　bombs；　a　couple　of　Pyrenes。〃　He　dumped　them　by　the　stove。　〃Hope　they're　not　solid。〃
　
　〃Good　boy。　And　a　couple　of　the　tractor　extinguishers…the　Nu…Swifts；　G…1000；1　think。〃　A　great　help　these　little　things　are　going　to　be；　I　thought；　if　several　thousand　gallons　of　petrol　decide　to　go　up　in　flames。　〃Fire　axes；　crowbars；　canes；　the　homing　spool…for　heaven's　sake　don't　forget　the　hojning　spool…and　the　searchlight　battery。　Be　sure　and　wrap　that　up　well。〃
　
　〃Bandages？〃
　
　〃No　need。　Seventy　degrees　of　frost　will　freeze　blood　and　seal　a　wound　quicker　than　any　bandage。　But　bring　the　morphia　kit。　Any　water　in　these　two　buckets？〃
　
　〃Full。　But　more　ice　than　water。〃
　
　〃Put　them　on　the　stove…and　don't　forget　to　turn　out　the　stove　and　both　the　lights　before　you　leave。〃　Incongruously　enough；　we　who　could　survive　in　the　Arctic　only　by　virtue　of　fire；　feared　it　above　all　else。　〃Pile　the　rest　of　the　stuff　up　by　the　instrument　shelter。〃
　
　I　found　Jackstraw；　working　only　by　the　feeble　light　of　his　torch；　outside　the　lean…to　drift…walled　shelter　that　we　had　built　for　the　dogs　from　empty　packing　cases　and　an　old　tractor　tarpaulin。　He　appeared　to　be　fighting　a　losing　battle　in　the　centre　of　a　milling　pack　of　snarling　yelping　dogs；　but　the　appearance　was　illusion　only：　already　he　had　four　of　the　dogs　off　the　tethering　cable　and　the　sledge　tracelines　snapped　into　their　harness。
　
　〃How's　it　ing？〃　I　shouted。
　
　〃Easy。〃　I　could　almost　see　the　crinkling　grin　behind　the　snow…mask。　〃I　caught　most　of　them　asleep；　and　Balto　is　a　great　help…he's　in　a　very　bad　temper　at　being　woken　up。〃
　
　Balto　was　Jackstraw's　lead　dog…a　huge；　90…pound；　half…wolf；　half…Siberian；　direct　descendant　of；　and　named　for　the　famous　dog　that　had　trekked　with　Amundsen；　and　who　later；　in　the　terrible　winter　of　'25；　his　sledge…driver　blind　behind　him；　had　led　his　team　through　driving　blizzards　and　far　sub…zero　cold　to　bring　the　life…giving　anti…toxin　into　the　diphtheria…stricken　town　of　Nome；　Alaska。　Jackstraw's　Balto　was　another　such：　powerful；　intelligent；　fiercely　loyal　to　his　master…　although　not　above　baring　his　wolfs　fangs　as　he　made　a　token　pass　at　him　from　time　to　time　…and；　above　all；　like　all　good　lead　dogs；　a　ruthless　disciplinarian　with　his　team…mates。　He　was　exercising　that　disciplinary　authority　now…snarling；　pushing　and　none…too…gently　nipping　the　recalcitrant　and　the　slow…coaches；　quelling　insubordination　in　its　earliest　infancy。
　
　〃I'll　leave　you　to　it；　then。　I'll　get　the　searchlight。〃　I　made　off　towards　the　mound　of　snow　that　loomed　high　to　the　westward　of　the　cabin；　broke　step　and　listened。　There　was　no　sound　to　be　heard；　nothing　but　the　low…pitched　moan　of　the　wind　on　the　ice…cap；　the　eternal　rattling　of　the　anemometer　cups。　I　turned　back　to　Jackstraw；　my　face　bent　against　the　knifing　wind。
　
　〃The　plane…have　you　heard　the　plane；　Jackstraw？　I　can't　hear　a　thing。〃
　
　Jackstraw　straightened；　pulled　off　his　parka　hood　and　stood　still；　hands　cupped　to　his　ears。　Then　he　shook　his　head　briefly　and　replaced　the　hood。
　
　〃My　God！〃　I　looked　at　him。　〃Maybe　they've　crashed　already。〃
　
　Again　the　shake　of　the　head。
　
　〃Why　not？〃　I　demanded。　〃On　a　night　like　this　you　wouldn't　hear　a　thing　if　they　crashed　half　a　mile　downwind。〃
　
　〃I'd　have　felt　it；　Dr　Mason。〃
　
　I　nodded　slowly；　said　nothing。　He　was　right；　of　course。　The　frozen　surface　of　this　frozen　land　transmitted　vibration　like　a　tuning…fork。　Last　July；　seventy　miles　inland；　we　had　distinctly　felt　the　vibration　of　the　ice…cap　as　an　iceberg　had　broken　off　from　a　glacier　in　a　hanging　valley　and　toppled　into　the　fjord　below。　Maybe　the　pilot　had　lost　his　bearings；　maybe　he　was　flying　in　ever…widening　circles　trying　to　pick　up　our　lights　again；　but　at　least　there　was　hope　yet。
　
　I　hurried　across　to　where　the　tractor；　sheeted　in　tarpaulin；　lay　close　in　to　the　high　snow　wall　that　had　been　cut　down　the　middle　of　the　drift。　It　took　me　a　couple　of　minutes　to　clear　away　the　accumulated　snow　at　one　end　and　wriggle　in　under　the　tarpaulin。　There　was　no　question　of　trying　to　lift　it…its　impregnated　oils　had　frozen　solid　and　it　would　have　cracked　and　torn　under　any　pressure。
　
　The　searchlight；　fixed　to　a　couple　of　bolts　on　the　tractor　bonnet；　was　held　down　by　two　quick…release　butterfly　nuts。　In　these　latitudes；　quick…release　was　a　misnomer：　the　nuts　invariably　froze　after　even　the　briefest　exposure。　The　accepted