p&c.thunderhead-第8节

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adn't　had　much　luck　with　women；　and　the　thought　that　one…mousy　or　not…was　willing　to　drop　everything　and　drive　all　the　way　from　Santa　Fe　to　meet　with　him　was　flattering。　Besides；　she'd　promised　to　pay　for　dinner。　
　After　a　brief；　easy　run；　the　streets　grew　more　congested　and　aggressively　urban。　Another　three　blocks；　another　three　lights；　and　he　nosed　up　onto　the　sidewalk　beside　a　row　of　four…story　buildings。　Pulling　a　brown　bag　from　beneath　the　bungee　cord　on　the　rear　fender；　he　craned　his　neck　up　toward　his　apartment。　Ancient　yellow　curtains　twitched　limply　in　the　hot；　fitful　breeze。　They　were　a　bequest　of　a　previous　tenant　and　had　never　felt　air　conditioning。　Snorting　again；　Holroyd　angled　across　the　street　and　headed　toward　the　intersection；　where　the　sign　for　Al's　Pizza　glowed　against　the　gathering　dusk。　
　He　glanced　around　and　slid　into　his　usual　booth；　enjoying　the　chill　air　of　the　restaurant。　The　traffic　had　made　him　late；　but　the　place　was　still　empty。　Holroyd　tried　to　decide　whether　he　felt　disappointed　or　relieved。　
　Al　himself　came　over；　a　small；　impossibly　hirsute　man。　〃Good　evening；　professor！〃　he　cried。　〃Nice　night；　eh？〃　
　〃Sure；〃　said　Holroyd。　Over　Al's　hair…matted　shoulder；　he　could　see　a　small　television；　its　grainy　image　struggling　through　a　film　of　grease。　It　was　always　tuned　to　CNN；　and　the　sound　was　always　off。　There　was　an　image　of　the　shuttle　Republic；　showing　an　astronaut　floating　upside　down；　tethered　by　a　white　cord；　the　magnificent　blue　orb　of　Earth　as　a　backdrop。　He　felt　a　quick　familiar　feeling　of　longing　and　turned　back　to　Al's　cheerful　face。　
　Al　slapped　the　table　with　a　floury　hand。　〃What　tonight？　We've　got　good　anchovy　pizza；　ing　out　in　five　minutes。　You　like　anchovy？〃　
　Holroyd　hesitated　a　moment。　Probably　she'd　thought　better　of　making　such　a　long　trip；　after　all；　he　hadn't　exactly　been　encouraging　on　the　telephone。　〃I　love　anchovies；〃　he　said。　〃Bring　me　two　slices。〃　
　〃Angelo！　Two　slices　anchovy　for　the　professor！〃　Al　cried　as　he　swept　back　behind　the　counter。　Holroyd　watched　him　walk　away；　then　reached　for　the　paper　bag　and　dumped　the　contents　onto　the　tabletop。　A　notebook；　two　blue　high…lighters；　and　paperback　copies　of　The　White　Nile；　Aku　Aku；　and　Lansing's　Endurance　fell　out。　With　a　sigh；　he　fanned　the　pages　of　Endurance；　located　the　paper　clip；　and　settled　back。　
　He　heard　the　familiar　squeal　of　the　pizza　parlor　door　and　caught　a　glimpse　of　a　young　woman　struggling　through；　lugging　a　large　portfolio　case。　She　had　unusual　bronze…colored　hair　that　broke　in　waves　over　her　shoulders；　and　penetrating　hazel　eyes。　Her　body　was　slim；　and　as　she　dragged　the　case　through　the　door　he　couldn't　help　but　notice　a　shapely　rear。　She　turned　and　he　looked　up　quickly；　guiltily；　only　to　be　arrested　by　her　face：　smart；　restless；　impatient。　
　This　couldn't　be　her。　
　The　woman　glanced　up　and　the　hazel　eyes　met　his。　He　quickly　shut　the　book　and　smoothed　a　hand　over　his　hair；　made　unruly　by　the　motorcycle　ride。　The　woman　walked　straight　toward　him；　dumped　her　portfolio　on　the　table；　and　slid　into　the　far　side　of　the　booth　with　a　cool　rustle　of　her　long　legs。　She　brushed　back　the　copper…colored　hair。　Her　skin　was　tan；　and　he　noticed　a　scattering　of　freckles　along　the　bridge　of　her　nose。　
　〃Hi；〃　she　said。　〃Are　you　Peter　Holroyd？〃　
　He　nodded。　And　experienced　a　moment　of　panic。　This　was　not　the　frowsy　scholar　he'd　expected：　this　woman　was　lovely。　
　〃I'm　Nora　Kelly。〃　She　extended　her　hand。　
　Holroyd　hesitated　a　moment。　Then　he　put　the　book　down　and　shook　the　proffered　hand。　The　fingers　were　cool　and　unexpectedly　strong。　
　〃Sorry　to　corner　you　like　this。　Thanks　for　meeting　with　me。〃　
　Holroyd　tried　a　smile。　〃Well；　your　story　was　interesting。　But　a　little　vague。　I'm　interested　in　hearing　more　about　this　lost　city　in　the　desert。〃　
　〃Well；　I'm　afraid　it　has　to　be　vague　for　the　time　being。　You　can　understand　the　need　for　secrecy。〃　
　〃Then　I'm　not　sure　what　I　can　do　for　you；〃　Holroyd　said。　〃It's　like　I　told　you　on　the　phone。　All　those　requests　have　to　go　through　my　boss。〃　He　hesitated。　〃I'm　just　here　to　learn　a　little　more。〃　
　〃Your　boss　would　be　Dr。　Watkins。　Yes；　I　talked　to　him；　too。　Real　nice　guy。　Modest；　too。　I　like　that　in　a　man。　Too　bad　he　couldn't　spare　me　more　than　nine　seconds。〃　
　Holroyd　began　to　laugh；　then　quickly　stifled　himself。　〃So　what's　your　position　at　the　Institute？〃　he　asked；　shifting　in　the　booth。　
　〃I'm　an　assistant　professor。〃　
　〃Assistant　professor；〃　Holroyd　repeated。　〃And　you're　the　one　in　charge　of　the　expedition？　Or　is　there　someone　else？〃　
　The　woman　gave　him　a　penetrating　look。　〃I'm　kind　of　at　the　same　level　you　are。　Fairly　low　down　on　the　totem　pole；　not　really　in　control　of　my　own　destiny。　This；〃　she　patted　her　portfolio；　〃could　change　all　that。〃　
　Holroyd　wasn't　sure　if　he　should　be　offended。　〃So　when　exactly　do　you　need　the　data？　It　might　speed　things　up　if　the　Institute's　president　contacted　my　boss　directly…he's　always　impressed　by　big　names。〃　He　mentally　kicked　himself　for　sounding　a　disparaging　note　about　his　boss。　You　never　knew　when　something　like　that　might　find　its　way　back；　and　Watkins　was　not　the　forgiving　type。　
　She　leaned　toward　him。　〃Mr。　Holroyd；　I've　got　a　confession　to　make。　I'm　not　working　right　now　with　the　plete　support　of　the　Institute。　The　fact　is；　they　won't　even　consider　an　expedition　to　find　this　city　until　I　bring　them　proof。　That's　why　I　need　your　help。〃　
　〃Why　are　you　so　interested　in　finding　this　city？〃　
　〃Because　it　could　be　the　greatest　archaeological　discovery　of　our　time。〃　
　〃And　how　do　you　know　that？〃　
　Al　appeared；　bearing　two　huge　slices　of　pizza　dense　with　anchovies。　He　slid　them　under　Holroyd's　nose。　A　salty　aroma　wafted　upward。　
　〃Not　on　the　portfolio！〃　the　woman　cried。　Taken　aback　by　the　sudden　tone　of　mand；　Al　scooped　the　slices　onto　a　neighboring　table；　apologizing　profusely　as　he　backed　away。　
　〃And　bring　me　an　iced　tea；　please！〃　she　called　after　him；　then　turned　back　to　Holroyd。　〃Look；　Peter…can　I　call　you　Peter？…I　didn't　drive　all　the　way　here　to　waste　your　time　on　some　dime…a…dozen　digsite。〃　She　drew　closer；　and　Holroyd　caught　a　faint　clean　scent　of　shampoo。　〃Ever　hear　of　Coronado；　the　Spanish　explorer？　He　came　into　the　Southwest　in　1540；　looking　for　the　Seven　Cities　of　Gold。　A　friar　had　gone　north　years　before；　looking　for　souls　to　save；　and　he　returned　with　a　huge；　drilled　emerald　crystal　and　stories　of　lost　cities。　But　when　Coronado　himself　came　northward；　he　found　only　the　mud　pueblos　of　the　Indian　tribes　of　New　Mexico；　none　of　whom　had　gold　or　wealth。　But　at　a　place　called　Cicuye；　the　Indians　told　him　about　a　city　of　priests；　called　Quivira；　where　they　ate　from　plates　of　gold　and　drank　from　golden　goblets。　Of　course；　this　drove　Coronado　and　his　men　into　a　frenzy。〃　
　The　tea　came；　and　she　cracked　the　plastic　seal　from　the　cap　and　took　a　sip。　〃Some　of　the　natives　told　him　Quivira　was　way　to　the　east；　in　present…day　Texas。　Others　said　it　was　in　Kansas。　So　Coronado　and　his　army　went　eastward。　But　when　he　got　to　Kansas；　the　Indians　said　Quivira　was　far　to　the　west；　in　the　country　of　the　Red　Stones。　Eventually；　Coronado　returned　to　Mexico；　a　broken　man；　convinced　he'd　been　chasing　a　chimera。〃　
　〃Interesting；〃　Holroyd　said。　〃But　it　doesn't　prove　anything。〃　
　〃Coronado　wasn't　the　only　one　to　hear　these　stories。　In　1776；　two　Spanish　friars；　Escalante　and　Dominguez；　traveled　westward　from　Santa　Fe；　trying　to　blaze　an　overland　route　to　California。　I've　got　their　report　here　somewhere。〃　She　dug　into　her　portfolio；　retrieved　a　creased　sheet　of　paper；　and　began　reading。　
　Our　Paiute　guides　took　us　through　difficult　country；　by　what　seemed　to　us　a　perverse　route；　northward　instead　of　westward。　When　we　remarked　upon　this；　the　response　was　that　the　Paiutes　never　traveled　through　the　country　to　the　west。　Asked　the　reason；　they　became　sullen　and　silent。　Halfway　through　our　journey；　near　the　Crossing　of　the　Fathers　on　the　Colorado　River；　half　of　them　deserted。　It　was　never　clear　from　the　rest　exactly　what　lay　to　the　west　that　caused　such　strong　emotion。　One　spoke　of　a　great　city；　destroyed　because　the　priests　there　had　enslaved　the　world；　and　tried　to　usurp　the　power　of　the　sun　itself。　Others　hinted　darkly　of　a　slumbering　evil　which　they　dared　not　awaken。　
　She　replaced　the　sheet　of　paper。　〃And　that's　not　all。　In　1824；　an　American　mountain　man　by　the　name　of　Josiah　Blake　was　captured　by　Ute　Indians。　In　those　days；　exceptionally　brave　captives　were　sometimes　offered　a　choice　between　death　or　joining　the　tribe。　Blake　naturally　joined　the　tribe。　He　later　married　a　Ute　woman。　Utes　are　nomadic；　and　at　certain　times　of　the　year　they　would　venture　deep　into　the　Utah　canyon　country。　Once；　in　a　particularly　remote　area　west　of　the　Escalante；　a　Ute　pointed　toward　the　setting　sun　and　mentioned　that　in　that　direction　lay　a　ruined　city　of　fabulous　wealth。　The　Utes　never　ventured　any　closer；　but　they　gave　Blake　an　engraved　turquoise　disk　that　had　supposedly　e　from　the　city。　When　he　finally　got　back　to　white　civilization　ten　years　later；　he　swore　that　one　day　he　would　find　this　lost　place。　Eventually；　he　went　back　to　look　for　it　and　was　never　seen　again。〃　
　She　took　another　sip　of　tea　and　placed　the　bottle　carefu