jefflong.yearzero-第34部分
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! He thought of running; but even if they didn't shoot him; he would be trapped without his passport。
At that moment; a metal door creaked open on the fire escape two stories overhead。 An old man appeared on the small grated deck。 Calmly smoking a pipe in the rain; scanning the far distances; he didn't notice them at first。 He stood there; pale and delicate; like an ancient submariner getting a breath of fresh air。
Unbelievably; Nathan Lee thought he recognized the ghost。 〃Spencer?〃 he said。 〃Spencer Baird?〃 He was…or had been…a paleontologist。 He had to be ninety。
The old man looked down at them。 〃Who goes there?〃
〃Do you know this man; sir?〃 a Marine called up to him。
〃Spencer; it's me;〃 said Nathan Lee。 〃I came when you sent word。〃 He pulled off his cap and pawed flat his short; chopped; wet beard; trying to make his face younger。 He didn't dare identify himself by his real name; because the Marines knew him as someone else。 It was not a small matter。 No one had better reason to hide their true identity than a plague carrier。
The old man leaned over the wet railing。 〃Word? What's the word?〃
〃Fred Whipple;〃 Nathan Lee tried。 He dug for other names; praying one of them might still be around。 〃Joe Henry。 Charlie Abbot。 They said ASAP。〃 He added; 〃The bones。〃
〃Ah;〃 said Baird; 〃the bones。〃
〃I'm here。〃
〃Thank god。 We've been waiting for you。〃 Baird looked old as Noah up there with his white beard in the clattering rain。 〃But who are you?〃
There was no way around it。 〃Swift;〃 said Nathan Lee。
One of the Marines said; 〃Wait a minute。〃 He pulled Nathan Lee's blood book from under his poncho for a second look。
〃Is that you; Nathan Lee?〃 Baird leaned out further。 〃They said you were a goner。 Swallowed by the mountains。〃
〃What's your name; sir?〃 the Marine said。
Hurry;thought Nathan Lee。Reach down。 Raise me up。
〃Get in here before you catch your death; man;〃 Baird said。 〃Don't you see it's raining?〃
Nathan Lee reached for the fire escape ladder。 The Marine grabbed his arm。 〃Not so fast;〃 he said。
〃They know me。〃 Nathan Lee smiled。 He tried to smile。 His teeth chattered。
〃Let him go;〃 said the second Marine。 He took the blood book and slapped Nathan Lee's chest with it。 〃The man's home。 At least somebody belongs somewhere。〃
Nathan Lee pulled himself up the fire escape and climbed the metal stairs。 Baird weled him with tobacco breath and mighty slaps on the back。 Inside the building was pitch black。 Baird handed Nathan Lee his two…foot Maglite; heavy as an axe; and pulled the steel door shut against the storm。 〃They said you were dead;〃 he kept repeating。 〃Wait till the others see。〃
Nathan Lee followed him through the dark bowels of the institute。 〃I'm looking for a man named David Ochs;〃 he said。 〃A professor。〃
〃Ox?〃
〃An archaeologist。 A big man。 A professor。〃
〃Never heard of him;〃 said Baird。
〃What about Dean White?〃 Nathan Lee asked hopefully。 White was the curator who had missioned the Himalayan hunt two years ago。
〃White;〃 barked Baird。 〃He got his nuts handed to him after your peccadillo。 Is it true you killed a man? And ate him?〃
〃Are there others from the anthro department here? They'd know about Ochs。〃
〃Gone。 All gone;〃 said Baird。 〃But it's in the paperwork; I'm sure。〃
〃Is the paperwork here; in this building?〃
〃There is a chance。〃 Baird gestured at thousands of cardboard boxes stacked in the hallways。 There was barely room to walk between them。 〃Thought you were dead。〃
Voices trickled from further ahead。 They descended a staircase。 In the distance; he saw a dozen old people eating dinner by candlelight in the dark shadows of a vestibule。
They looked spectral surrounding the silver candelabra。 The men had ties and jackets。 Two wore tuxes; one a smoking jacket with ascot。 The women looked ready for the opera; withpashminas draped over their shoulders to ward off the chill。 They were eating from antique blue plates; with heavy silverware and crystal wine glasses。 Nathan Lee could smell each part of their meal。。。the veal and lobster; the butter sauce and basil; the red wine from old bottles。 Not one of them was under eighty。
〃Look what the wind blew in;〃 Baird announced to the group。 With a slow flourish; he turned to display his discovery。
But the hallway was empty。
15
Expendables
LOSALAMOS
Cavendish's clone passed among them like a ghost。 He traveled everywhere; threading through their security systems; appearing inside their labs; hacking into their puters。 He crawled insidetheir secrets。 He wormed inside their minds。 At first; Adam didn't hate them。 He simply wanted to know what made him different。
In the beginning; his flesh had been sport enough。 No longer stapled to Cavendish's wheelchair; but still filled with Cavendish's memory; it was like passing from himself。 He had started out as Cavendish in mind; but he was no longer Cavendish。 For a time; they had been like Siamese twins joined at the head; right down to the neural twitch and the tremor in their hands。 Every memory before twenty months ago had been a memory shared with his creator。
For a while after Adam's birth; Cavendish had done everything to keep hisdoppelg?nger on a short leash; close at hand; day and night。 Adam was required to dress Cavendish in the morning and wash him at night。 Adam wheeled his chair。 At meetings; he stood to the rear; mute; like some exotic potted plant。 He cooked Cavendish breakfast and dinner。 Even his name; so cliche; like a chain around his neck。
Their chess games were a source of humor for Cavendish。 Neither could make a move the other didn't know。 Every game ended in stalemate。 But then one day Adam made a move of his own。 〃Checkmate;〃 he whispered; and stood。 He towered above the board。 That was the first time he had felt his wings spread open。 They seemed to fill the room。 And Cavendish; ravaged by disease; cupped in his wheelchair; seemed far below。
After that; Adam had systematically severed himself; tissue and mind; from his maker。 It was a dangerous procedure; because his Cavendish…consciousness knew that Cavendish was waiting for just such a breach。 The one thing Cavendish feared in the world was the power of his own mind。 Above all else; he did not want his secrets roaming beyond his control。 Adam knew that Cavendish had planned to terminate him once he saw his cloned; living body。 He was an experiment; a vanity。 Cavendish merely wanted to see himself immaculate and unflawed。
It would not have been Cavendish's first murder; Adam knew。 There were others besides the old woman; Golding。 Cavendish had deported dozens of his enemies into the wastelands of America; or even disappeared them into their own lethal experiments。 For some reason which Adam did not fully understand; Cavendish had been merciful to his clone。 He had permitted him to live。 All the same; Adam was careful。
His freedom came in doses; literally。 Los Alamos abounded with chemists from pharmaceutical panies。 Adam obtained a sedative; organically constructed; that would not leave traces in Cavendish's blood。 Cavendish was a gourmand with a weakness for Californianouvelle cuisine; light portions exquisitely arranged。 He never suspected the sleeping potion。 In that way; Adam began his rebellion。 He occupied the night。
At first it was a game。 He sampled his own body。 He spent hours in front of the mirror。 With weights and anabolic steroids; he jumpstarted his muscles。 He injected synthetic testosterone to rewire his lymphatic system。 Soon his quads and calves were stretching his blue jeans tight。 In the dark of night; he ran for miles along Los Alamos's forest roads。 Cavendish noticed the changes; but slowly。 He mented on the veins along Adam's arms and thighs。 Adam played to his narcissism。 He was careful not to display his enormous strength; only his beauty。 He became David to his Michelangelo。 Cavendish began to touch him。 He marveled at what he might have been。
Adam didn't rush his independence。 Sometimes escape is a thing best done in slow motion; in plain view。 Not until the eleventh month did he have a woman。 Soon he'd had many。 He experienced forbidden sensations that boggled his mind。
Inevitably; Adam grew bored。 It was an inherited trait; a defense mechanism; a by…product of rampant genius。 Humanity annoyed him。 It gratified him to see the great cities desolate; the great bridges traversed only by the occasional dog。 The plague had surged in waves; backing off; giving hope; then mutating and charging into them again。 Everything human was dead now except America; and that was on the brink。
He'd downloaded the best of their downfall; the scenes of 747s crashing at airports or being shot from the sky; the torpedo sinking of refugee boats and even a Princess Cruise liner trying to return from Bermuda; the final bell ring of the New York stock exchange; the last clap of the gavel suspending Congress eight months ago。 A group of survivalists had strung together a colony in the upper reaches of a redwood forest in Washington; a village of rope bridges and Tarzan swings connecting their nylon ledges。 Adam liked that website。 The apes were returning to the trees。
He continued to take sex; but he no longer hunted it。 It wasn't a discovery process anymore; only an urge; like defecating。 The Internet crashed。 You could surf the satellites; but he was jaded。 With time; he turned from one taboo to another。 He became an incubus; poaching their thoughts; stealing their privacy。 Getting inside them。
The trespassing started as a thrill ride。 He broke their security codes; hacked into their memory banks; peeped on them through their own surveillance cameras: it was fun。 It satisfied his growing contempt for them。 Adam perfected his vanishing act。 He bobbed upon their electronic consciousness; only to disappear。
This was different from their plague surfing; which he'd indulged in; too。 Soon that got old; as well。 Adam began to visit the technical areas in person。
Audacity; that was the ticket; that and the right biological minutiae。 By every measure; except his metamorphosis; he was his father Cavendish。 His fingerprints; his retinal signature; the chemicals of his exhaled breath; his blood; his speech patterns; all of it identifi