jefflong.yearzero-第16节

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　〃Gone；〃　rasped　Nathan　Lee。
　〃Are　you　the　gentleman；　then；　from　Makalu？〃
　They　knew　him。　Suddenly　the　last　of　his　strength　drained　away。　Ochs　had　e　through　here；　of　course。　He　had　started　weaving　his　cover　story；　and　it　was　clearly　one　of　his　own　survival　from　great　violence　and　deception。　Nathan　Lee　was　too　tired　to　try　to　repair　the　damage。　〃May　I　have　somechai；　please？〃　he　asked。
　The　interview　was　interrupted　while　the　younger　policeman　scampered　off　for　tea。　It　took　several　minutes。　While　he　was　gone；　Nathan　Lee　asked；　〃What　happens　now？〃
　The　officer　said；　〃Everything　will　be　fine；　sir。〃
　The　young　policeman　returned　with　a　thick　glass　of　milk　tea　dosed　with　sugar。　In　his　other　hand　was　an　ancient　set　of　shackles。
　Nathan　Lee　accepted　the　tea。　He　calmly　watched　them　cuff　his　good　ankle。　None　of　this　seemed　real。　None　of　it。　He　had　a　daughter　back　home。　He　was　not　a　bad　man。　They　would　straighten　matters　out。Everything　will　be　fine。
　Out　of　kindness；　they　didn't　shackle　his　swollen　leg。　The　chain　and　extra　cuff　lay　on　the　ground；　unnecessary。　It　was　plain　for　all　to　see　that　the　beast　had　been　captured。
　4
　Sunday
　KERKYRA；CORFU
　After　mass；　the　faithful　milled　in　the　square；　chatting　with　their　neighbors；　enjoying　their　last　quiet　hour　before　the　tourists　arrived。　Easter　was　over。　The　mummified　body　of　the　island's　saint　had　been　paraded　through　the　streets　and　returned　to　his　church。　In　the　town　museum；　a　2；600…year…old　statue　of　the　Gorgon　Medusa　with　serpents　for　hair　had　been　dusted　off。　The　money　season　was　about　to　begin。
　In　forty　minutes　the　ferry　from　Italy　would　arrive　at　the　New　Port。　The　first　of　hordes　of　pasty　white　British　and　Germans　would　descend　into　their　midst。　Before　the　summer　was　out；　the　visitors　would　number　tens　of　thousands；　some　on　their　way　to　other　islands；　many　just　planting　themselves　on　Corfu's　beaches。　All　had　to　pass　through　the　island's　capital。　The　town　was　ready。　Therembetis　had　tuned　their　bouzoukis　and　electric　guitars。　Cafes　and　bars　were　well　stocked。　The　prostitutes　and　taxi　drivers　and　hotel　keepers　could　not　wait。
　It　was　a　pretty　morning。　The　sun　was　warm；　the　sea　blue。　The　hills　above　town　were　bright　green　with　basil　and　rosemary　and　thyme　and　oregano　seedlings。　Drugged　with　sun；　sleepy　cats　watched　from　windows　and　flower　boxes。
　Suddenly　there　was　a　shout　from　up　the　narrow　street；　then　another；　a　bark　of　outrage。　〃Slow　down；　fool；〃　someone　yelled。
　A　wild…eyed　young　man　came　careening　down　the　winding　lane；　scarcely　able　to　control　his　bicycle。　A　big　fisherman　reached　out　and　caught　him　before　he　ran　into　the　Sunday　crowd。　The　bike　struck　a　wall。　He　dropped　the　young　man　onto　his　seat　on　the　cobbles。
　〃Ah；　it's　only　Spyros；〃　people　said。　Half　the　men　on　Corfu　were　named　Spyros　after　their　saint；　the　mummy　Spyridon。　But　something　in　the　inflection　distinguished　this　one。　He　was　Spyros　the　simpleton；　a　laborer　on　a　farm。
　〃Madonna；　Madonna。〃　Tears　poured　down　his　face。　He　was　dressed　in　coarse；　patched　trousers　and　a　faded　Rolling　Stones　T…shirt。
　〃What　is　it　this　time；　Spyros？〃
　Spyros　scrambled　to　his　feet。　He　began　shouting　about　an　apparition。
　〃Hush；〃　a　woman　said；　〃you'll　scare　the　children。〃
　But　he　went　on。　An　angel　had　appeared　to　him　in　the　hills　above　town。　〃The　Virgin　herself。〃
　A　local　tough　strutted　up。　He　shoved　Spyros。　〃Don't　be　sacrilegious；〃　he　said。
　The　big　fisherman　pushed　the　tough　away。　〃Leave　him　alone。　He's　simple；〃　he　said。
　〃Then　shut　him　up。　He'll　drive　the　tourists　away。〃
　〃She　is　ing；〃　said　Spyros。　He　cast　fearful　glances　up　the　street。　Others　looked　and　saw　nothing。
　Someone　threw　a　small　stone　at　him　as　if　driving　away　a　dog。　Another　stone　followed。　People　clucked　or　hissed　or　spit。
　〃She　es　from　heaven；〃　said　the　young　man。
　〃Go　back　to　your　goats；　Spyros。〃
　〃I　never　trusted　his　family；〃　a　man　said。　〃Look　at　those　blue　eyes。　He　es　from　the　Turks。〃
　Only　slowly　did　they　bee　aware　of　her。　She　appeared　from　the　lane's　deep　shadows　and　descended　into　view。　Perhaps　she　had　followed　the　simpleton　downhill。　Perhaps　she　was　drawn　by　the　church　bells。　Maybe　she　had　simply　obeyed　gravity　on　her　trek　to　the　sea。
　〃Dear　Christ　in　Heaven；〃　someone　whispered。
　She　moved　on　two　legs；　but　did　not　look　human。　Naked　as　a　ghost；　she　seemed　made　of　glass。　From　a　distance；　as　they　squinted　into　the　shadows；　her　body　seemed　to　flicker　in　and　out　of　reality。　She　drew　nearer；　but　haltingly；　with　the　pace　of　a　sleepwalker。
　As　she　passed；　Spyros　put　his　hands　to　his　head　and　cowered　against　the　wall。　The　fisherman　stared　in　disbelief；　then　took　off　his　cap　uncertainly。　He　crossed　himself。　She　swayed　past　them　without　a　glance。
　〃What　is　this？〃　someone　murmured。　The　square　opened　to　her。　The　crowd　pressed　back　against　the　buildings。Who　could　she　be？　Where　did　she　e　from？
　She　entered　the　sunlight　and　became　even　more　fantastic。　For　her　skin　was　nearly　transparent。　Her　veins　showed　clearly。　Backlit　by　the　sun；　her　organs　were　a　silhouetted　mass。　One　could　see　the　limned　bones。
　And　yet　she　was　not　a　gruesome　sight。　Quite　the　opposite。　Despite　her　condition；　the　woman's　beauty　was　evident。　Her　hair　was　long。　Except　for　the　transparent　roots；　it　was　black　and　tangled　with　flowers　and　vegetation。　Her　figure　was　voluptuous；　with　luminous　breasts　and　flared　hips。
　She　came　to　a　halt。　Some　noticed　her　lower　legs　and　feet。　The　skin　was　torn。　Shepherds'　dogs　had　bitten　her。　Thorns　stuck　from　the　edges　of　her　soles。　Even　if　this　transfigured　being　had　descended　from　the　heavens；　it　was　clear　she　had　also　walked　a　long　distance。
　It　might　have　been　the　smell　of　the　sea　which　stopped　her；　or　the　warmth　of　the　sun　or　the　flatness　of　the　square；　the　fact　that　she　was　no　longer　being　pulled　downhill。　Or　it　could　have　been　the　sight　of　the　church。　No　one　knew　why　she　stopped　in　their　midst。　She　had　a　slight　cough。
　〃What　is　your　name？〃　a　man　called　out。
　Nothing　in　her　radiant　face　conveyed　knowledge。　She　seemed　not　to　register　the　question。　Her　peacefulness　was　startling。
　〃Why　have　you　e　here？〃　someone　asked。
　Her　mouth　opened；　but　no　language　came　out；　only　a　sound　like　the　beginning　of　a　song。　Her　innocence　stilled　them。　They　listened　to　her　single　note　of　sound。　It　went　on　and　on。
　She　raised　her　arms　out　to　the　sides。　Something　wondrous　happened。　Wings　of　color　flashed　and　disappeared　as　her　hands　lifted　up。　Her　flesh　had　bee　a　prism。　She　faced　the　sun；　and　her　entire　body　threw　a　penumbra　of　rainbow。
　〃What　kind　of　creature　is　this？〃　someone　asked。
　Someone　might　have　recognized　her；　even　in　her　condition；　if　she　were　a　daughter　of　this　island。　As　it　was；　no　one　in　this　town　had　ever　met　Medea；　the　fifth　wife　of　Nikos　Engatromenos。　She　was　a　stranger　to　them　regardless　of　her　flesh。
　An　old　woman　in　black　dared　to　go　forward。　Clutching　her　rosary；　she　reached　out　and　touched　the　angel。　The　strange　creature　lifted　her　head　and　turned　blindly　in　the　direction　of　the　old　woman。　A　murmur　rifled　through　the　crowd。
　The　old　woman　brought　her　face　closer　and　made　her　judgement。　She　knelt。〃Evloyite；〃　she　said。　Normally　it　was　a　greeting　reserved　only　for　monks。　She　said　it　again。Bless　me。　Rainbows　danced　upon　the　old　woman's　black　dress。
　Devotion　overtook　the　crowd。　It　was　spontaneous。　In　their　collective　minds；　the　woman　was　nothing　less　than　an　angel　fallen　to　earth。
　Word　spread。　Hundreds　of　people　came　close　to　genuflect　and　reach　out　to　touch　her。　Those　close　enough　crossed　themselves　with　beads　of　her　sweat。　Others　tore　off　bits　of　their　clothing　to　press　to　her　miraculous　flesh。
　In　the　distance；　a　horn　sounded　from　the　sea。　The　12：10　ferry　from　Brinidisi　was　approaching。　Dock　workers　and　merchants　and　taxi　drivers　and　cafe　owners　detached　from　the　crowd　and　hurried　to　greet　the　boatload　of　tourists。
　Medea　sang　to　them。　She　glistened。　On　foot；　with　wings　of　light；　the　plague　had　e　to　meet　its　messengers。
　
　5
　Crossing　the　Line
　
　NEWMEXICO
　SEPTEMBER；　FOURMONTHSLATER
　Their　yellow　schoolbus　burst　from　the　mob。　Splattered　with　eggs　and　blood　and　neon　paintballs；　it　looked　psychedelic；　like　a　time　machine　from　the　Age　of　Aquarius。　Abbot　glanced　around　him。　Peeking　from　the　windows；　some　of　his　fellow　passengers　could　have　been　flower　children　with　their　stringy　hair　and　old　jeans。　In　fact　they　were　international　scientists　on　their　way　to　the　Mesa；　better　known　as　Los　Alamos　National　Laboratory。
　Every　seat　was　filled。　There　were　young　and　old；　rich　and　poor；　weird　and　plain；　each　one　of　them　on　the　cutting　edge　of　their　research。　From　the　rear；　he　saw　bleached　blond　buzz　cuts　and　pierced　ears；　long　hair；　bald　monk　pates；　pencil　necks；　wrestler　shoulders；　mad　scientist　frizz；　and　expensive　blow…dried　perms；　male　and　female。　Some　were　high…bred　cosmopolitans　able　to　navigate　the　most　convoluted　dinner　conversation。　Others　were　near　dumb　with　introspection　and　shyness。　Some　lived　by　Bach；　others　by　Puff　Daddy。　Many　were　university　academics　or　ran　labs　for　the　government　or　private　industry。　Several　had　branched　out　and　beached　tens　of　millions　with　their　own　biotech　start…ups。　The　majority　were　biologists；　who　tended　to　be　more　social　and　grounded　than；　say；　mathematicia