cc.iceberg-第23部分

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　〃I　don't　like　the　action。　Diving　alone　invites　danger；　and　danger　invites　death。　I'll　have　you　know　I'm　not　in　the　habit　of　going　against　my　own　orders　and　allowing　one　of　my　men　to　dive　in　unknown　waters　without　the　proper　precautions。〃　Sandecker　shifted　from　one　foot　to　the　other。　He　was　going　against　his　better　judgment；　and　the　disfort　showed　clearly　in　his　expression。　〃What　do　you　hope　to　find　down　there　besides　a　broken　airplane　and　bloated　bodies？　How　do　you　know　someone　hasn't　already　beaten　us　to　it？〃
　〃There　is　an　outside　chance　that　the　bodies　may　carry　identification　that　might　point　to　the　man　behind　this　screwed…up　enigma。　This　factor　alone　makes　it　worth　an　attempt　to　find　the　remains。　What's　more　important　is　the　aircraft　itself。　All　identifying　numbers　and　insignia　were　hidden　under　black　paint；　leaving　nothing　recognizable　at　a　distance　except　a　silhouette。　That　plane；　Admiral；　is　the　only　positive　lead　we　have　to　Hunnewell's　and　Matajic's　murderer。　The　one　thing　black　paint　can't　cover　is　the　serial　number　of　an　engine；　at　least　not　on　the　turbine　casing　under　the　cowling。　If　we　find　the　plane；　and　if　I　can　retrieve　the　digits；　it　then　bees　a　simple　matter　to　contact　the　manufacturer；　trace　the　engine　to　the　plane；　and　from　there　to　the　owner。〃
　Pitt　hesitated　a　moment　to　make　an　adjustment　on　the　fathometer。　〃The　answer　to　your　second　question；〃　he　went　on；　〃is　no　way。〃
　〃You　seem　damned　sure　of　yourself；〃　Sandecker　said　mechanically。　〃As　much　as　I　hate　the　murderous　son…of…a…bitch；　I　still　give　him　credit　for　brains。　He'd　have　already　searched　for　his　missing　plane；　knowing　that　the　wreckage　could　give　him　away。〃
　〃True；　he　would　have　made　a　surface　search；　but　this　time…for　the　first　time…we　have　the　advantage。
　
　Nobody　witnessed　the　fight。　The　children　who　found　Hunnewell　and　me　on　the　beach　said　they　investigated　only　after　they　noticed　the　Ulysses　laying　in　the　surf…not　before。　And　the　fact　that　our　friendly　assassins　didn't　kill　us　when　they　had　an　ideal　opportunity　instead　of　arriving　at　the　doctor's　house　much　later；　proves　they　weren't　ground　observers。　To　sum　up；　I'm　the　only　survivor　who　knows　where　to　look…〃　Pitt　broke　off　suddenly；　his　eyes　concentrating　on　the　graph　and　stylus。　The　black　lines　began　widening　from　a　thin　waver　back　and　forth　across　the　paper　to　a　small　mountainlike　sweep　that　indicated　a　sudden　rise　of　eight　to　ten　feet　above　the　flat；　sandy　sea　floor。
　〃I　think　we've　found　it；〃　Pitt　said　calmly。　〃Circle　to　port　and　cross　our　wake　on　course　one…eight…five；　Admiral。〃
　
　Sandecker　spun　the　helm　and　made　a　two…hundred…and…seventy…degree　swing　to　the　south；　causing　The　Grimsi　to　rock　gently　as　it　passed　over　the　waves　of　its　own　wake。　This　time　the　stylus　took　lonszer　to　sweep　to　a　height　of　ten　feet　before　tapering　back　to…zero。
　〃What　depth？〃　Sandecker　asked。
　〃One　hundred　and　forty…five　feet；〃　Pitt　replied。
　〃Judging　from　the　indication；　we　just　passed　over　her　from　wing　tip　to　wing　tip。〃
　
　Minutes　later；　The　Grimsi　was　moored　over　the　reading　on　the　fathometer。　The　shore　was　nearly　a　mile　away；　the　great　cliffs　showing　off　their　gray　vertical　rock　more　distinctly　than　ever　under　the　northern　sun。
　
　At　the　same　time；　a　slight　breeze　sprang　up　and　began　to　ruffle　the　surface　of　the　rolling　water。　It　was　a　mild　warning；　a　signal　foretelling　the　beginning　of　rougher　weather　to　e。　With　the　breeze　a　state　of　chilling　apprehension　raised　the　hairs　on　Pitts　neck。　For　the　first　time　he　began　to　wonder　what　he　would　find　beneath　the　cold　Atlantic　waters。
　
　Chapter　10
　
　The　brilliant　blue　sky；　free　of　clouds；　allowed　the　sun　to　beat　down　and　turn　Pitts　black　neoprene　wet　suit　into　a　skintight　sauna　bath　as　he　checked　the　old　single…hose　U。S。　Diver's　Deepstar　regulator。　He　would　have　preferred　a　newer　model；　but　beggars　couldn't　be　choosy。
　
　He　considered　himself　lucky　that　one　of　the　young　consulate　members　made　a　sport　of　diving　and　had　the　equipment　on　hand。　He　attached　the　regulator　to　the　valve　of　an　air　bottle。　Two　single　tanks　were　all　he　could　scrounge。　Enough　for　fifteen　minutes'　diving；　and　even　that　was　stretching　precious　time　for　dives　to　one　hundred　and　forty　feet。　His　only　consolation　was　that　he　wouldn't　be　down　long　enough　to　worry　about　depression。
　
　His　last　look　of　The　Grimsi's　deck　before　the　bluegreen　water　closed　over　his　face　mask　was　of　Admiral　Sandecker　sitting　sleepily　with　fishing　pole　gripped　in　both　hands　and　Tidi；　dressed　in　Pitts　outlandish　clothes；　brown　hair　encased　in　the　knit　cap；　studiously　sketching　the　Icelandic　shoreline。　Shielded　from　anyone　watching　from　the　cliffs；　Pitt　slipped　over　the　side　behind　the　wheelhouse　and　became　a　part　of　the　sea's　vastness。　His　body　was　tense。　Without　a　diving　panion　there　was　no　margin　for　error。
　
　The　shock　of　the　icy　water　against　his　sweaty　body　nearly；　made　him　pass　out。　Using　the　anchor　line　as　a　guide；　he　followed　along　its　vanishing　outline；　leaving　his　air　bubbles　to　swirl　and　rise　lazily　to　the　surface。
　
　As　he　sank　deeper　and　deeper；　the　light　diminished　and　the　visibility　shortened。　He　checked　his　two　vital　references。　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