jefflong.yearzero-第15部分

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　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；　mathematicians　or　particle　theorists。　Abbot　thought　that　had　to　do　with　their　proximity　to　living　beings；　regardless　of　how　minuscule。　In　one　form　or　another；　they　handled　the　mortal　coil。　It　kept　them　from　spinning　off　into　surreality。
　Abbot　was　the　chief　of　the　National　Academy　of　Sciences。　The　riot　reflected　on　him。　He　had　orchestrated　for　them　a　quiet　taste　of　the　Southwest。　Rancho　Encantado　was　a　resort　north　of　Santa　Fe。　The　Dalai　Lama　had　stayed　there　once。　There　was　a　picture　in　the　lobby　of　him　with　a　cowboy　hat。　For　the　first　two　days；　the　scientists　had　presented　papers；　showed　pictures；　and　ridden　horses。　This　morning　they　had　risen　early　and　eaten　a　pancake…and…eggs　breakfast；　and　boarded　the　bus。　And　driven　straight　into　that　howling　gauntlet　awaiting　them　on　Highway　40。
　There　was　no　questioning　the　mob's　hatred　for　the　scientists。　The　demonstrators　had　let　the　eggs　rot　in　the　sun　for　days。　You　could　smell　the　sulfur　dioxide　on　the　riot　cops　hunkered　in　the　aisles　and　in　the　well　of　the　bus　door。　Their　ninja…turtle　armor　dripped　with　gouts　of　neon　paint　and　spoiled　food；　and　the　scientists　leaned　away　from　them。　The　paint　and　rotten　food　were　mischief；　thought　Abbot。　But　the　blood　was　pure　malice。　It　was　human；　donated　by　the　pint　from　radical　anarchists。　In　these　times　of　AIDS　and　Hep…C；　throwing　blood　was　not　a　statement；　it　was　an　act　of　terrorism。
　The　newspapers　would　treat　it　as　one　more　demonstration　against　the　G。E。s；　or　genetic　engineers。　Token　peaceniks　would　decry　the　random　violence；　but　denounce　the　evil　scientists。　The　sheriff　would　stress　his　restraint；　the　governor　would　extend　apologies。　It　was　all　theatrics。　Abbot　knew　how　these　things　worked。　Someone　very　high　up　had　authorized　putting　some　fear　of　God　into　the　distinguished　members　of　Genome　XXI；　the　twenty…first　symposium　of　the　Human　Genome　Project。
　Abbot　mulled　over　his　enemies。　There　was　a　vicious　Senate　battle　in　progress　over　budget　cuts。　The　sciences　were　being　treated　like　parasites。　In　the　name　of　his　creationist　constituents；　Senator　Jimmy　Rollins　of　Kansas　was　once　again　frothing　at　the　mouth；　a　feeble　mind；　a　cheap　plagiarist。　It　could　have　been　the　European　Union　lobby；　of　course；　still　trying　to　block　genetically　modified　〃frankenfoods〃　from　their　shores。　Or　the　farm　unions；　working　for　leverage。
　〃Stop　fretting；〃　Abbot's　seatmate　said。　Her　name　tag　readElise　Golding/UC。　The　〃UC〃　was　too　humble。　In　fact　the　University　of　California　was　almost　an　empire　unto　itself；　including　even　Los　Alamos。　Fossilized　bubblegum　stuck　to　the　wall　beside　her　plaid　skirt。　She　patted　his　arm。　〃It's　the　times；　Paul。〃
　Her　salt…and…pepper　hair　was　bound　in　a　thick　ponytail。　The　low　sunlight　glinted　off　the　planes　of　her　face。　The　radiance　stripped　her　face　of　its　crow's…feet　and　laugh　lines。　For　a　moment　she　appeared　thirty　years　younger；　that　same　young　woman　he'd　first　met；　ironically；　at　a　wild　stormy　protest　against　the　Vietnam　War。　She　had　been　on　the　faculty　at　Cornell；　he　at　MIT。　Everyone　had　been　full　of　daring　that　day。　And　night。
　〃Those　weren't　just　fundamentalists　and　anti…abortionists；〃　he　growled。　〃You　saw　their　signs。　All　the　Luddites　were　there　in　force。　Greenpeace；　Earth　First；　WAAKE…UP；　the　animal　rights　people；　the　AFLCIO　goons。　It　was　a　lynch　mob。〃
　〃And　you　provoked　it；〃　she　said。
　〃Good　grief；　Elise；　they　just　attacked　a　childrens'　schoolbus。〃
　〃They　attacked　an　idea。〃
　〃Driven　by　demagogues　and　talk　radio　and　tabloid　nonsense。〃
　〃Admit　it；　Paul；〃　she　said　more　quietly。　〃You're　mad　because　your　plan　backfired。〃
　〃What　plan；〃　he　said。
　〃You　used　us。〃　Her　eyes　flashed　like　grey　steel。　She　had　a　low　tolerance　for　falseness　of　any　kind。　Shenanigans；　she　called　it。　It　was　why　he'd　placed　Miranda　under　her　guidance。　Elise　was　an　ethics　lesson　in　motion。　〃You　drew　a　line　in　the　sand。　They　crossed　it。　It's　that　simple。　Politics。　You're　just　as　guilty　as　they　are。　You　wanted　to　make　a　statement；　and　it　bit　you　on　the　ass。　It　got　ugly。　Thank　goodness　no　one　got　hurt。　These　windows　aren't　bulletproof；　you　know。〃
　〃Now　we　have　to　ask　the　rabble's　permission　to　do　science？〃　he　blustered。　〃Someone　has　to　take　a　stand；　Elise。　It's　not　just　gen…tech　they're　after；　you　know。　All　the　sciences　are　under　fire。　I　see　it　on　the　editorial　pages；　in　the　budget　cuts；　in　the　empty　classrooms。　We're　sliding　backwards　into　the　Dark　Ages。　Next　they'll　be　burning　books。　Or　us。〃
　〃You　want　them　to　love　you。〃
　〃Of　course　not；〃　he　snorted。
　She　continued。　〃You　do。　You　want　them　to　feel　the　spark　of　discovery　and　be　awed　and　thank　us。　And　one　day；　Paul；　they　will　again。　Maybe　we'll　give　them　a　new　energy　source。　Or　a　cure　for　the　mon　cold。　Or　a　vaccine　for　this　Mediterranean　thing。　These　things　move　in　cycles。　But　you　have　to　accept　that　for　every　glorious　Apollo　moon　landing　there's　some　Galileo　upsetting　their　apple　cart。　For　every　Salk　or　Curie；　there's　a　Darwin　calling　them　monkeys。　For　every　Carl　Sagan　or　Stephen　Hawking　trying　to　illuminate　the　masses；　there's　a　Mengele　or　Teller　giving　them　nightmares。　We're　not　in　the　hugging　phase　right　now；　that's　all。　And　hosting　a　convention　of　geneticists　in　their　backyard　won't　get　you　there。〃
　〃Backyard？　We're　in　the　middle　of　nowhere。〃
　〃You　know　what　I　mean。　You　arranged　headlines。　You　gave　that20/20　woman　an　interview　last　week。　You　could　have　focused　her　on　the　search　for　this　Mediterranean　virus；　you　could　have　made　us　heroes。　Instead　you　talked　about　evolution。　What　was　all　that　about　mutation　as　God's　plan？　And　why　on　earth　did　you　pick　a　ranch　in　the　desert　instead　of　just　housing　these　people　at　Los　Alamos　where　it's　secure？〃
　Just　yesterday；　Abbot　had　seen　classified　reports　from　the　National　Security　Agency　and　Homeland　Security　remending　an　immediate　three…month　shutdown　of　U。S。　borders。　He　was　on　the　inside　of　that　call。　It　would　be　a　draconian　measure…no　air；　sea　or　land　travel；　no　shipping；　no　business　trips　back　and　forth　to　Paris；　no　spring　breaks　in　Cancun…and　it　would　have　to　be　done　by　Presidential　directive。　Politicians　and　bureaucrats　would　stone