cc.iceberg-第26节

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ces。　The　depth　gauge　read　ninety　feet　and　the　orange　dial　on　the　Doxa　diving　watch　notified　him　that　he　had　been　down　two　minutes。
　
　The　bottom　gradually　came　into　view。　He　automatically　popped　his　ears　for　the　third　time　and　was　struck　by　the　color　of　the　sand…a　pure　black。　Unlike　most　areas　of　the　world　where　the　bottom　sand　was　white；　the　volcanic　activity　of　Iceland　had　left　a　carpet　of　soft　ebony　grains。　He　slowed　his　movement；　spellbound　by　the　strangeness　of　the　dark　color　beneath　the　vast　shroud　of　blue…green　water。　Visibility　was　about　forty　feet…quite　good　considering　the　depth。
　
　Instinctively　he　swung　around　in　a　three…hundredand…sixty…degree　circle。　Nothing　was　in　sight。　He　looked　up　and　vaguely　saw　a　shldow　pass　over　him。　It　was　a　small　school　of　cod　foraging　near　the　bottom　for　their　favorite　diet　of　shrimp　and　crab。　He　watched　a　moment　as　they　slowly　slipped　overhead；　their　slightly　flattened　bodies　tinted　a　dark　olive　and　spotted　with　hundreds　of　small　brown　dots。　Too　bad　the　admiral　can't　hook　one；　he　thought。　The　smallest　weighed　no　less　than　fifteen　pounds。
　
　Pitt　began　swimming　in　ever…widening　circles　around　the　anchor　line；　dragging　a　fin　in　the　sadd　to　mark　his　trail。　Underwater　he　often　saw　fantasy；　at　deep　depths　his　perception　was　distorted；　danger　magnified　beyond　clear　thinking。　After　five　circuits　he　saw　a　dim　form　through　the　blue　haze。　Quickly　kicking　his　fins；　he　swam　toward　it。　Thirty　seconds　later　his　hopes　were　broken　and　discarded。　The　form　proved　to　be　a　large　jagged　rock　poking　up　from　the　bottom　like　some　forgotten　and　crumbling　outpost　in　the　middle　of　a　desert。
　
　Effortlessly　he　slipped　around　the　current…worn　sides；　his　mind　blurred；　struggling　for　control。　This　couldn't　be　the　readine　on　the　fathometer；　he　thought。　The　peak　was　too　conical　to　match　that　of　an　aircraft　fuselage。
　
　Then　he　saw　something　lying　in　the　sand　just　five　feet　away。　The　black　paint　on　the　broken　and　bent　door　blended　against　the　black　sand　almost　to　the　point　of　invisibility。　He　swam　forward　and　turned　it　over；　recoiling　in　surprise　for　an　instant　as　a　large　lobster　scurried　from　its　new　home。　There　were　no　markings　anywhere　on　the　inside　paneling。　Pitt　had　to　move　quickly　now。
　
　The　plane　had　to　be　very　close；　but　he　was　due　to　pull　the　valve　for　his　reserve　air；　and　that　only　left　a　few　minutes　of　extra　breathing…barely　enough　to　get　him　to　the　surface。
　
　It　didn't　take　him　long　to　find　it。　The　aircraft　was　resting　on　its　belly；　broke　in　two；　evidence　of　the　impact　from　the　crash。　His　breathing　became　harder　now；　signaling　him　that　it　was　time　to　go　on　reserve。　He　pulled　the　valve　and　headed　for　the　top。　The　watery　ceiling　over　his　head　slowly　became　brighter　as　he　rose　along　with　his　air　bubbles。　At　thirty　feet　he　stopped　and　searched　for　The　Grimsi's　keel；　it　was　important　that　he　break　water　out　of　sight　from　shore。　She　sat　like　a　fat　duck　with　her　props　tucked　into　her　bottom；　rolling　drunkenly　with　the　swells。　He　stared　upward　at　the　sun　to　get　a　direction。　The　Grimsi　had　drifted　around　her　anchor　lirie　on　a　hundred…and…eighty…degree　arc　so　that　her　starboard　side　now　faced　the　coast。
　
　He　pulled　himself　over　the　port　freeboard　and；　dropping　his　air　tank；　crawled　across　the　deck　into　the　wheelhouse。　Sandecker；　without　looking　up；　slowly　placed　his　rod　against　the　railing　and　just　as　slowly　walked　over　and　leaned　in　the　doorway。
　〃I　hope　you've　had　better　luck　than　I　have。〃
　〃She's　lying　a　hundred　and　fifty　feet　off　the　starboard　beam；〃　Pitt　said。　〃I　didn't　have　time　to　search　the　interior；　my　air　was　scraping　bottom。〃
　〃Better　get　out　of　that　suit　and　have　a　cup　of　coffee。　Your　face　is　as　blue　as　a　windmill　on　a　Delftware　saucer。〃
　〃Keep　the　coffee　hot。　I'll　relax　as　soon　as　we've　got　what　we　came　for。〃　Pitt　started　for　the　door。
　
　Sandecker's　eyes　were　set。　〃You're　not　going　anywhere　for　the　next　hour　and　a　half。　We　still　have　plenty　of　time。　The　day　is　young。　It's　senseless　to　overdo　your　physical　resources。　You　know　the　repetitive　dive　charts　as　well　as　any　diver　alive。　Two　dives　to　one　hundred　and　forty　feet　within　thirty　minutes　invites　a　case　of　the　bends。〃　He　paused；　then　drove　the　point　home。　〃You've　seen　men　scream　their　lungs　out　from　the　agony　of　pain。
　
　You　know　the　ones　who　lived　and　the　ones　who　were　paralyzed　for　life。　Even　if　I　pushed　this　old　scow　to　the　hilt；　I　couldn't　get　you　to　Reykjavik　before　two　hours。
　
　Then；　add　another　five　hours　on　a　jet　to　London　and　the　nearest　depression　chamber。　No　way；　my　friend。
　
　You　go　below　and　rest　up。　I'll　tell　you　when　you　can　go　down　again。〃
　〃No　contest；　Admiral；　you　win。〃　Pitt　unzipped　the　front　of　his　wet　suit。　〃However；　I　think　it　would　be　wiser　to　sack　out　above　deck　so　that　all　three　of　us　are　in　view。〃
　〃Who's　to　see？　The　coast　is　deserted；　and　we　haven't　another　boat　since　we　left　the　harbor。〃
　〃The　coast　isn't　deserted。　We　have　an　observer。〃
　
　Sandecker　turned　and　gazed　across　the　water　toward　the　cliffs。　〃I　may　be　getting　old；　but　I　don't　need　glasses　yet。　Damned　if　I　can　detect　any　obvious　glitters。〃
　〃Off　to　the　right　just　beyond　that　rock　that　projects　from　the　water。〃
　〃Can't　see　crap　from　this　distance。〃　He　stared　sideways　at　the　point　Pitt　described。　〃It'd　be　like　looking　through　a　keyhole　and　seeing　another　eye　if　I　picked　up　the　binoculars　and　stared　back。　How　can　you　be　sure？〃
　〃There　was　a　reflection。　The　sun　flashed　on　something　for　a　moment。　Probably　a　pair　of　lenses。〃
　〃Let　them　gawk。　If　anybody　should　ask　why　only　two　of　us　were　on　deck；　Tidi　was　seasick　and　in　misery　on　a　bunk　below。〃
　〃That's　as　good　an　excuse　as　any；〃　Pitt　said；　smiling。　〃So　long　as　they　can't　tell　the　difference　between　Tidi　and　me　in　that　wild　set　of　duds。〃
　Sandecker　laughed。　〃Through　binoculars　from　a　nine　away；　your　own　mother　couldn't　tell　the　difference。〃
　〃I'm　not　sure　how　I　should　take　that。〃
　Sandecker　turned　and　stared　into　Pitts　eyes；　his　lips　twisting　from　the　laugh　to　a　wry　smile。　〃Don't　try。　Just　get　your　ass　below。　It's　nappy　time。　I'll　send　Tidi　down　with　a　cup　of　coffee。　And；　no　hanky…panky。　I　know　how　horny　you　get　after　a　hard　day's　dive。〃
　
　An　eerie；　yellow…gray　light　showed　through　the　hatch　when　Sandecker　shook　Pitt　awake。　He　woke　slowly；　mind　blurred；　more　groggy　from　a　catnap　than　from　an　eight…hour　sleep。　Pitt　could　feel　the　drop　in　the　wave　action；　The　Grimsi　was　barely　rocking；　even　in　the　low　even　swells。　There　was　no　hint　of　a　breeze。　The　air　was　damp　and　heavy。
　〃A　change　in　the　weather；　Admiral？〃
　〃A　fog　bank…rolling　in　from　the　south。〃
　〃How　long？〃
　〃Fifteen；　maybe　twenty　minutes。〃
　〃Not　much　time。〃
　〃Enough　。　。　。　enough　for　a　quick　dive。〃
　
　Minutes　later　Pitt　had　slipped　into　his　gear　and　dropped　over　the　side。　Down　again　into　a　world　where　there　is　no　sound；　no　wind；　down　where　air　is　not　known。　He　cleared　his　ears　and　kicked　his　fins　hard　and　descended；　his　muscles　cold　and　aching；　his　brain　still　sluggish　from　sleep。
　
　He　swam　silently；　effortlessly；　as　though　suspended　by　a　wire　through　the　great　fluid　backdrop。　He　swam　through　the　darkening　colors；　the　blue…green　now　changing　slowly　to　a　soft　gray。　He　swam　with　no　sense　of　direction；　save　for　what　his　instinct　and　the　landmarks　on　the　bottom　told　him。　Then　he　found　it。
　
　His　heart　began　pounding　like　a　bass　drum　as　he　approached　the　plane　cautiously；　knowing　from　experience　that　once　he　entered　the　tangled　wreckage；　every　movement　would　be　a　menace。
　
　He　flippered　around　to　the　shattered　opening　of　the　fuselage　eight　feet　aft　of　the　wings　and　was　greeted　by　a　small　rosefish；　no　more　than　six　inches　long。　Its　orance…red　scales　contrasted　vividly　with　the　dark　background　and　fluoresced　in　the　dim　light　like　a　tiny　Christmas　tree　ornament。　It　stared　at　Pitt　for　a　moment　from　one　beady　eye　set　solidly　under　a　spiny　head。　then　began　darting　back　and　forth　in　front　of　his　face　mask　as　he　entered　the　plane。
　
　As　soon　as　his　eyes　adjusted　to　the　darkness；　they　met　with　a　jumbled　mess　of　seats；　broken　from　their　moorings　on　the　floor；　and　wooden　boxes　floating　in　confusion　against　the　ceiling。　Tugging　two　of　the　boxes　toward　the　opening；　he　pushed　them　out　and　watched　until　they　lifted　free　on　their　way　toward　the　surface。
　
　Then　he　spied　a　glove　with　its　finger　sockets　still　encasing　a　man's　hand。　The　body　attached　by　a　greenish　arm　to　the　hand　was　jammed　between　the　seats　in　the　lower　corner　of　the　main　cabin。　Pitt　pulled　the　corpse　out　and　searched　its　clothing。　He　must　have　been　the　one　who　fired　the　machine　gun　from　the　doorway；　Pitt　reasoned。
　
　The　head　wasn't　a　pretty　sight；　it　had　been　smashed　to　semiliquid　paste；　the　gray　matter　and　skull　fragments　straggling　in　reddish　tentacles　away　from　the　center　mass　and　swaying　in　unison　with　the　current。　The　pockets　of　the　torn　black　overalls　covering　the　remains　held　nothing　but　a　screwdriver。
　
　Pitt　shoved　the　screwdriver　under　his　weigbtbelt　then；　half　swimming；　half　gliding；　he　entered　the　cockpit。　Except　for　a　broken　windshield　on　the　copilot's　side；　the　heart　of　the　aircraft　appeared　empty　and　undamaged。　But　then　he　happened　to　look　up　at　his　air　bubbles　rising　to　the　overhead　pane