p&c.icelimit-第15部分

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　His　eyes　landed　on　McFarlane's；　then　darted　away　again。　He　seemed　ill　at　ease。
　〃And　this　is　Dr。　Patrick　Brambell；　the　ship's　doctor。　No　stranger　to　the　high　seas。〃
　Brambell　flashed　the　table　a　droll　smile　and　gave　a　little　Japanese　bow。　He　was　a　devious…looking　old　fellow　with　sharp　features；　fine　parallel　wrinkles　tracing　a　high　brow；　thin　stooped　shoulders；　and　a　head　as　glabrous　as　a　piece　of　porcelain。
　〃You've　worked　as　a　ship's　doctor　before？〃　Britton　inquired　politely。
　〃Never　set　foot　on　dry　land　if　I　can　help　it；〃　said　Brambell；　his　voice　wry　and　Irish。
　Britton　nodded　as　she　slipped　her　napkin　out　of　its　ring；　flicked　it　open；　and　laid　it　across　her　lap。　Her　movements；　her　fingers；　her　conversation　all　seemed　to　have　an　economy　of　motion；　an　unconscious　efficiency。　She　was　so　cool　and　poised　it　seemed　to　McFarlane　a　defense　of　some　kind。　As　he　picked　up　his　own　napkin；　he　noticed　a　card；　placed　in　the　center　of　the　table　in　a　silver　holder；　with　a　printed　menu。　It　read：　Consomme　Olga；　Lamb　Vindaloo；　Chicken　Lyonnaise；　Tiramisu。　He　gave　a　low　whistle。
　〃The　menu　not　to　your　liking；　Dr。　McFarlane？〃　Britton　asked。
　〃Just　the　opposite。　I　was　expecting　egg　salad　sandwiches　and　pistachio　ice　cream。〃
　〃Good　dining　is　a　shipboard　tradition；〃　said　Britton。　〃Our　chief　cook；　Mr。　Singh；　is　one　of　the　finest　chefs　afloat。　His　father　cooked　for　the　British　admiralty　in　the　days　of　the　Raj。〃
　〃Nothing　like　a　good　vindaloo　to　remind　you　of　your　mortality；〃　said　Brambell。
　〃First　things　first；〃　Amira　said；　rubbing　her　hands　and　looking　around。　〃Where's　the　bar　steward？　I'm　desperate　for　a　cocktail。〃
　〃We'll　be　sharing　that　bottle；〃　Glinn　said；　indicating　the　open　bottle　of　Chateau　Margaux　that　stood　beside　the　floral　display。
　〃Nice　wine。　But　there's　nothing　like　a　dry　Bombay　martini　before　dinner。　Even　when　dinner's　at　midnight。〃　Amira　laughed。
　Glinn　spoke　up。　〃I'm　sorry；　Rachel；　but　there　are　no　spiritous　liquors　allowed　on　board　the　ship。〃
　Amira　looked　at　Glinn。　〃Spiritous　liquors？〃　she　repeated　with　a　brief　laugh。　〃This　is　new；　Eli。　Have　you　joined　the　Christian　Women's　Temperance　League？〃
　Glinn　continued　smoothly。　〃The　captain　allows　one　glass　of　wine；　taken　before　or　with　dinner。　No　hard　liquor　on　the　ship。〃
　It　was　as　if　a　lightbulb　came　on　over　Amira's　head。　The　joking　look　was　replaced　by　a　sudden　flush。　Her　eyes　darted　toward　the　captain；　then　away　again。　〃Oh；〃　she　said。
　Following　Amira's　glance；　McFarlane　noticed　that　Britton's　face　had　turned　slightly　pale　under　her　tan。
　Glinn　was　still　looking　at　Amira；　whose　blush　continued　to　deepen。　〃I　think　you'll　find　the　quality　of　the　Bordeaux　makes　up　for　the　restriction。〃
　Amira　remained　silent；　embarrassment　clear　on　her　face。　Britton　took　the　bottle　and　filled　glasses　for　everyone　at　the　table　except　herself。　Whatever　the　mystery　was；　McFarlane　thought；　it　had　passed。　As　a　steward　slipped　a　plate　of　consomme　in　front　of　him；　he　made　a　mental　note　to　ask　Amira　about　it　later。
　The　noise　of　conversation　at　the　nearest　tables　rose　once　again；　filling　a　brief　and　awkward　silence。　At　the　nearest　table；　Manuel　Garza　was　buttering　a　slab　of　bread　with　his　beefy　paw　and　roaring　at　a　joke。
　〃What's　it　like　to　handle　a　ship　this　big？〃　McFarlane　asked。　It　was　not　simply　a　polite　question　to　fill　the　silence：　something　about　Britton　intrigued　him。　He　wanted　to　see　what　lay　under　that　lovely；　perfect　surface。
　Britton　took　a　spoonful　of　consomme。　〃In　some　ways；　these　new　tankers　practically　pilot　themselves。　I　keep　the　crew　running　smoothly　and　act　as　troubleshooter。　These　ships　don't　like　shallow　water；　they　don't　like　to　turn；　and　they　don't　like　surprises。〃　She　lowered　her　spoon。　〃My　job　is　to　make　sure　we　don't　encounter　any。〃
　〃Doesn't　it　go　against　the　grain；　manding…well　…　an　old　rust　bucket？〃
　Britton's　response　was　measured。　〃Certain　things　are　habitual　at　sea。　The　ship　won't　remain　this　way　forever。　I　intend　to　have　every　spare　hand　working　cleanup　detail　on　the　voyage　home。〃
　She　turned　toward　Glinn。　〃Speaking　of　that；　I'd　like　to　ask　you　a　favor。　This　expedition　of　ours　is　rather。。。　unusual。　The　crew　have　been　talking　about　it。〃
　Glinn　nodded。　〃Of　course。　Tomorrow；　if　you'll　gather　them　together；　I'll　speak　to　them。〃
　Britton　nodded　in　approval。　The　steward　returned；　deftly　replacing　their　plates　with　fresh　ones。　The　fragrant　smell　of　curry　and　tamarind　rose　from　the　table。　McFarlane　dug　into　the　vindaloo；　realizing　a　second　or　two　later　that　it　was　probably　the　most　fiery　dish　he　had　ever　eaten。
　〃My；　my；　that's　fine；〃　muttered　Brambell。
　〃How　many　times　have　you　been　around　the　Horn？〃　McFarlane　asked；　taking　a　large　swig　of　water。　He　could　feel　the　sweat　popping　out　on　his　brow。
　〃Five；〃　said　Britton。　〃But　those　voyages　were　always　at　the　height　of　the　southern　summer；　when　we　were　less　likely　to　encounter　bad　weather。〃
　Something　in　her　tone　made　McFarlane　uneasy。　〃But　a　vessel　this　big　and　powerful　has　nothing　to　fear　from　a　storm；　does　it？〃
　Britton　smiled　distantly。　〃The　Cape　Horn　region　is　like　no　place　else　on　earth。　Force　15　gales　are　monplace。　You've　heard　of　the　famed　williwaws；　no　doubt？〃
　McFarlane　nodded。
　〃Well；　there's　another　wind　far　more　deadly；　although　less　well　known。　The　locals　call　it　a　panteonero；　a　‘cemetery　wind。'　It　can　blow　at　over　a　hundred　knots　for　several　days　without　letup。　It　gets　its　name　from　the　fact　that　it　blows　mariners　right　into　their　graves。〃
　〃But　surely　even　the　strongest　wind　couldn't　affect　the　Rolvaag？〃　McFarlane　asked。
　〃As　long　as　we　have　steerage；　we're　fine；　of　course。　But　cemetery　winds　have　pushed　unwary　or　helpless　ships　down　into　the　Screaming　Sixties。　That's　what　we　call　the　stretch　of　open　ocean　between　South　America　and　Antarctica。　For　a　mariner；　it's　the　worst　place　on　earth。　Gigantic　waves　build　up；　and　it's　the　only　place　where　both　waves　and　wind　can　circle　the　globe　together　without　striking　land。　The　waves　just　get　bigger　and　bigger　…　up　to　two　hundred　feet　high。〃
　〃Jesus；〃　said　McFarlane。　〃Ever　taken　a　boat　down　there？〃　Britton　shook　her　head。　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃I　never　have；　and　I　never　will。〃　She　paused　for　a　moment。　Then　she　folded　her　napkin　and　gazed　across　the　table　at　him。　〃Have　you　ever　heard　of　a　Captain　Honeycutt？〃
　McFarlane　thought　a　moment。　〃English　mariner？〃
　Britton　nodded。　〃He　set　off　from　London　in　1607　with　four　ships；　bound　for　the　Pacific。　Thirty　years　before；　Drake　had　rounded　the　Horn；　but　had　lost　five　of　his　six　ships　in　the　process。　Honeycutt　was　determined　to　prove　that　the　trip　could　be　made　without　losing　a　single　vessel。　They　hit　weather　as　they　approached　the　Strait　of　Le　Maire。　The　crew　pleaded　with　Honeycutt　to　turn　back。　He　insisted　on　pushing　on。　As　they　rounded　the　Horn；　a　terrible　gale　blew　up。　A　giant　breaking　wave　…　the　Chileans　call　them　tigres　…　sank　two　of　the　ships　in　less　than　a　minute。　The　other　two　were　dismasted。　For　several　days　the　hulks　drifted　south；　borne　along　by　the　raging　gale；　past　the　Ice　Limit。〃
　〃The　Ice　Limit？〃
　〃That's　where　the　waters　of　the　southern　oceans　meet　the　subfreezing　waters　surrounding　Antarctica。　Oceanographers　call　it　the　Antarctic　Convergence。　It's　where　the　ice　begins。　At　any　rate；　in　the　night；　Honeycutt's　ships　were　dashed　against　the　side　of　an　ice　island。〃
　〃Like　the　Titanic；〃　Amira　said　quietly。　They　were　the　first　words　she　had　spoken　for　several　minutes。
　The　captain　looked　at　her。　〃Not　an　iceberg。　An　ice　island。　The　berg　that　wrecked　the　Titanic　was　an　ice　cube　pared　to　what　you　get　below　the　Limit。　The　one　that　crushed　Honeycutt's　ships　probably　measured　twenty　miles　by　forty。〃
　〃Did　you　say　forty　miles？〃　McFarlane　asked。
　〃Much　larger　ones　have　been　reported；　bigger　than　some　states。　They're　visible　from　space。　Giant　plates　broken　off　the　Antarctic　ice　shelves。〃
　〃Jesus。〃
　〃Of　the　hundred…odd　souls　still　alive；　perhaps　thirty　managed　to　crawl　up　onto　the　ice　island。　They　gathered　some　wreckage　that　had　washed　up；　and　built　a　small　fire。　Over　the　next　two　days；　half　of　them　died　of　exposure。　They　had　to　keep　shifting　the　fire；　because　it　kept　sinking　into　the　ice。　They　began　to　hallucinate。　Some　claimed　a　huge　shrouded　creature　with　silky　white　hair　and　red　teeth　carried　away　members　of　the　crew。〃
　〃Goodness　gracious；〃　said　Brambell；　arrested　in　the　vigorous　act　of　eating；　〃that's　straight　out　of　Poe's　Narrative　of　Arthur　Gordon　Pym。〃　
　Britton　paused　to　look　at　him。　〃That's　exactly　right；〃　she　said。　〃In　fact；　it's　where　Poe　got　the　idea。　The　creature；　it　was　said；　ate　their　ears；　toes；　fingers；　and　knees；　leaving　the　rest　of　the　body　parts　scattered　about　the　ice。〃
　As　he　listened；　McFarlane　realized　that　conversation　at　the　closest　tables　had　fallen　away。
　〃Over　the　next　two　weeks；　the　sailors　died；　one　by　one。　Soon　their　numbers　had　been　reduced　to　ten　by　starvation。　The　survivors　took　the　only　option　left。〃
　Amira　made　a　face　and　put　down　her　fork　with　a　clatter。　〃I　think　I　know　what's　ing。〃
　〃Yes。　They　were　forced　to　eat　what　sailors　euphemistically　call　‘long　pig。'　Their　own　dead　panions。〃
　〃Charming；〃　Brambell　said。　〃I　understand　it's　better　than　pork；　if　cooked　properly。　Pass　the　lamb；　please。〃
　〃Perhaps　a　week　later；　one　of　the　survivors　spotted　the　remains　of　a　vessel　approaching　them；　bobbing　in　the　heavy　seas。　It　was　the　stern　of　one　of　their　own　ships　that　had　broken　in　two　during　the　storm。　The　men　began　to　argue。　Honeycutt　and　some　others　wanted　to　take　their　chances　on　the　wreck。　But　it　was　lying　low　in　the　water；　and　most　did　not　have　the　stomach　to　take　to　the　seas　on　it。　In　the　end　only　Honeycutt；　his　quartermaster；　and　one　mon　seaman　braved　the　swim。　The　quartermaster　died　of　the　cold　before　he　could　clamber　aboard　the　hulk。　But　Honeycutt　and　the　seaman　made　it。　Their　last　view　of　the　massive　ice　island　came　that　evening；　as　it　turned　southward　in　the　swells；　heading　slowly　for　Antarctica　and　oblivion。　As　it　faded　into　the　mists；　they　thought　they　saw　a　shrouded　creature；　tearing　apart　the　survivors。
　〃Three　days　later；　the　wreck　they　were　on　struck　the　reefs　around　Diego　Ramirez　Island；　southwest　of　the　Horn。　Honeycutt　drowned；　and　only　the　seaman　made　it　ashore。　The　man　lived　off　shellfish；　moss；　cormorant