danbrown.deceptionpoint-第81部分

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　holes；〃　always　remained　open；　while　the　holes　on　top；　〃vent　valves；〃　could　be　opened　and　closed　to　let　air　escape　so　water　would　flood　in。
　Maybe　the　Triton's　vent　valves　were　open　for　some　reason？　Tolland　could　not　imagine　why。　He　floundered　across　the　submerged　engine　platform；　his　hands　groping　one　of　the　Triton's　ballast　trim　tanks。　The　vent　valves　were　closed。　But　as　he　felt　the　valves；　his　fingers　found　something　else。
　Bullet　holes。
　Shit！　The　Triton　had　been　riddled　with　bullets　when　Rachel　jumped　in。　Tolland　immediately　dove　down　and　swam　beneath　the　sub；　running　his　hand　carefully　across　the　Triton's　more　important　ballast　tank…the　negative　tank。　The　Brits　called　this　tank　〃the　down　express。〃　The　Germans　called　it　〃putting　on　lead　shoes。〃　Either　way；　the　meaning　was　clear。　The　negative　tank；　when　filled；　took　the　sub　down。
　As　Tolland's　hand　felt　the　sides　of　the　tank；　he　encountered　dozens　of　bullet　holes。　He　could　feel　the　water　rushing　in。　The　Triton　was　preparing　to　dive；　whether　Tolland　liked　it　or　not。
　The　sub　was　now　three　feet　beneath　the　surface。　Moving　to　the　bow；　Tolland　pressed　his　face　against　the　glass　and　peered　through　the　dome。　Rachel　was　banging　on　the　glass　and　shouting。　The　fear　in　her　voice　made　him　feel　powerless。　For　an　instant　he　was　back　in　a　cold　hospital；　watching　the　woman　he　loved　die　and　knowing　there　was　nothing　he　could　do。　Hovering　underwater　in　front　of　the　sinking　sub；　Tolland　told　himself　he　could　not　endure　this　again。　You're　a　survivor；　Celia　had　told　him；　but　Tolland　did　not　want　to　survive　alone。。。　not　again。
　Tolland's　lungs　ached　for　air　and　yet　he　stayed　right　there　with　her。　Every　time　Rachel　pounded　on　the　glass；　Tolland　heard　air　bubbles　gurgling　up　and　the　sub　sank　deeper。　Rachel　was　yelling　something　about　water　ing　in　around　the　window。
　The　viewing　window　was　leaking。
　A　bullet　hole　in　the　window？　It　seemed　doubtful。　His　lungs　ready　to　burst；　Tolland　prepared　to　surface。　As　he　palmed　upward　across　the　huge　acrylic　window；　his　fingers　hit　a　piece　of　loose　rubber　caulking。　A　peripheral　seal　had　apparently　been　jarred　in　the　fall。　This　was　the　reason　the　cockpit　was　leaking。　More　bad　news。
　Clambering　to　the　surface；　Tolland　sucked　in　three　deep　breaths；　trying　to　clear　his　thoughts。　Water　flowing　into　the　cockpit　would　only　accelerate　the　Triton's　descent。　The　sub　was　already　five　feet　underwater；　and　Tolland　could　barely　touch　it　with　his　feet。　He　could　feel　Rachel　pounding　desperately　on　the　hull。
　Tolland　could　think　of　only　one　thing　to　do。　If　he　dove　down　to　the　Triton's　engine　box　and　located　the　high…pressure　air　cylinder；　he　could　use　it　to　blow　the　negative　ballast　tank。　Although　blowing　the　damaged　tank　would　be　an　exercise　in　futility；　it　might　keep　the　Triton　near　the　surface　for　another　minute　or　so　before　the　perforated　tanks　flooded　again。
　Then　what？
　With　no　other　immediate　option；　Tolland　prepared　to　dive。　Pulling　in　an　exceptionally　deep　breath；　he　expanded　his　lungs　well　beyond　their　natural　state；　almost　to　the　point　of　pain。　More　lung　capacity。　More　oxygen。　Longer　dive。　But　as　he　felt　his　lungs　expand；　pressuring　his　rib　cage；　a　strange　thought　hit　him。
　What　if　he　increased　the　pressure　inside　the　sub？　The　viewing　dome　had　a　damaged　seal。　Maybe　if　Tolland　could　increase　the　pressure　inside　the　cockpit；　he　could　blow　the　entire　viewing　dome　off　the　sub　and　get　Rachel　out。
　He　exhaled　his　breath；　treading　water　on　the　surface　a　moment；　trying　to　picture　the　feasibility。　It　was　perfectly　logical；　wasn't　it？　After　all；　a　submarine　was　built　to　be　strong　in　only　one　direction。　They　had　to　withstand　enormous　pressure　from　the　outside；　but　almost　none　from　within。
　Moreover；　the　Triton　used　uniform　regulator　valves　to　decrease　the　number　of　spare　parts　the　Goya　had　to　carry。　Tolland　could　simply　unsnap　the　high　pressure　cylinder's　charging　hose　and　reroute　it　into　an　emergency　ventilation　supply　regulator　on　the　port　side　of　the　sub！　Pressurizing　the　cabin　would　cause　Rachel　substantial　physical　pain；　but　it　might　just　give　her　a　way　out。
　Tolland　inhaled　and　dove。
　The　sub　was　a　good　eight　feet　down　now；　and　the　currents　and　darkness　made　orienting　himself　difficult。　Once　he　found　the　pressurized　tank；　Tolland　quickly　rerouted　the　hose　and　prepared　to　pump　air　into　the　cockpit。　As　he　gripped　the　stopcock；　the　reflective　yellow　paint　on　the　side　of　the　tank　reminded　him　just　how　dangerous　this　maneuver　was：　CAUTION：　PRESSED　AIR…3；000　PSI。
　Three　thousand　pounds　per　square　inch；　Tolland　thought。　The　hope　was　that　the　Triton's　viewing　dome　would　pop　off　the　sub　before　the　pressure　in　the　cabin　crushed　Rachel's　lungs。　Tolland　was　essentially　sticking　a　high…powered　fire　hose　into　a　water　balloon　and　praying　the　balloon　would　break　in　a　hurry。
　He　grabbed　the　stopcock　and　made　up　his　mind。　Suspended　there　on　the　back　of　the　sinking　Triton；　Tolland　turned　the　stopcock；　opening　the　valve。　The　hose　went　rigid　immediately；　and　Tolland　could　hear　the　air　flooding　the　cockpit　with　enormous　force。
　　
　Inside　the　Triton；　Rachel　felt　a　sudden　searing　pain　slice　into　her　head。　She　opened　her　mouth　to　scream；　but　the　air　forced　itself　into　her　lungs　with　such　painful　pressure　that　she　thought　her　chest　would　explode。　Her　eyes　felt　like　they　were　being　rammed　backward　into　her　skull。　A　deafening　rumble　tore　through　her　eardrums；　pushing　her　toward　unconsciousness。　Instinctively；　she　clenched　her　eyes　tight　and　pressed　her　hands　over　her　ears。　The　pain　was　increasing　now。
　Rachel　heard　a　pounding　directly　in　front　of　her。　She　forced　her　eyes　open　just　long　enough　to　see　the　watery　silhouette　of　Michael　Tolland　in　the　darkness。　His　face　was　against　the　glass。　He　was　motioning　for　her　to　do　something。
　But　what？
　She　could　barely　see　him　in　the　darkness。　Her　vision　was　blurred；　her　eyeballs　distorted　from　the　pressure。　Even　so；　she　could　tell　the　sub　had　sunk　beyond　the　last　flickering　fingers　of　the　Goya's　underwater　lights。　Around　her　was　only　an　endless　inky　abyss。
　　
　Tolland　spread　himself　against　the　window　of　the　Triton　and　kept　banging。　His　chest　burned　for　air；　and　he　knew　he　would　have　to　return　to　the　surface　in　a　matter　of　seconds。
　Push　on　the　glass！　he　willed　her。　He　could　hear　pressurized　air　escaping　around　the　glass；　bubbling　up。　Somewhere；　the　seal　was　loose。　Tolland's　hands　groped　for　an　edge；　something　to　get　his　fingers　under。　Nothing。
　As　his　oxygen　ran　out；　tunnel　vision　closed　in；　and　he　banged　on　the　glass　one　last　time。　He　could　not　even　see　her　anymore。　It　was　too　dark。　With　the　last　of　the　air　in　his　lungs；　he　yelled　out　underwater。
　〃Rachel。。。　push。。。　on。。。　the。。。　glass！〃
　His　words　came　out　as　a　bubbling；　muted　garble。
　
　　
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　Inside　the　Triton；　Rachel's　head　felt　like　it　was　being　pressed　in　some　kind　of　medieval　torture　vise。　Half…standing；　stooped　beside　the　cockpit　chair；　she　could　feel　death　closing　in　around　her。　Directly　in　front　of　her；　the　hemispherical　viewing　dome　was　empty。　Dark。　The　banging　had　stopped。
　Tolland　was　gone。　He　had　left　her。
　The　hiss　of　pressurized　air　blasting　in　overhead　reminded　her　of　the　deafening　katabatic　wind　on　Milne。　The　floor　of　the　sub　had　a　foot　of　water　on　it　now。　Let　me　out！　Thousands　of　thoughts　and　memories　began　streaming　through　her　mind　like　flashes　of　violet　light。
　In　the　darkness；　the　sub　began　to　list；　and　Rachel　staggered；　losing　her　balance。　Stumbling　over　the　seat；　she　fell　forward；　colliding　hard　with　the　inside　of　the　hemispherical　dome。　A　sharp　pain　erupted　in　her　shoulder。　She　landed　in　a　heap　against　the　window；　and　as　she　did；　she　felt　an　unexpected　sensation…a　sudden　decrease　in　the　pressure　inside　the　sub。　The　tightened　drum　of　Rachel's　ears　loosened　perceptibly；　and　she　actually　heard　a　gurgle　of　air　escape　the　sub。
　It　took　her　an　instant　to　realize　what　had　just　happened。　When　she'd　fallen　against　the　dome；　her　weight　had　somehow　forced　the　bulbous　sheet　outward　enough　for　some　of　the　internal　pressure　to　be　released　around　a　seal。　Obviously；　the　dome　glass　was　loose！　Rachel　suddenly　realized　what　Tolland　had　been　trying　to　do　by　increasing　the　pressure　inside。
　He's　trying　to　blow　out　the　window！
　Overhead；　the　Triton's　pressure　cylinder　continued　to　pump。　Even　as　she　lay　there；　she　felt　the　pressure　increasing　again。　This　time　she　almost　weled　it；　although　she　felt　the　suffocating　grip　pushing　her　dangerously　close　to　unconsciousness。　Scrambling　to　her　feet；　Rachel　pressed　outward　with　all　her　force　on　the　inside　of　the　glass。
　This　time；　there　was　no　gurgle。　The　glass　barely　moved。
　She　threw　her　weight　against　the　window　again。　Nothing。　Her　shoulder　wound　ached；　and　she　looked　down　at　it。　The　blood　was　dry。　She　prepared　to　try　again；　but　she　did　not　have　time。　Without　warning；　the　crippled　sub　began　to　tip…backward。　As　its　heavy　engine　box　overcame　the　flooded　trim　tanks；　the　Triton　rolled　onto　its　back；　sinking　rear…first　now。
　Rachel　fell　onto　her　back　against　the　cockpit's　rear　wall。　Half　submerged　in　sloshing　water；　she　stared　straight　up　at　the　leaking　dome；　hovering　over　her　like　a　giant　skylight。
　Outside　was　only　night。。。　and　thousands　of　tons　of　ocean　pressing　down。
　Rachel　willed　herself　to　get　up；　but　her　body　felt　dead　and　heavy。　Again　her　mind　reeled　backward　in　time　to　the　icy　grip　of　a　frozen　river。
　〃Fight；　Rachel！〃　her　mother　was　shouting；　reaching　down　to　pull　her　out　of　the　water。　〃Grab　on！〃
　Rachel　closed　her　eyes。　I'm　sinking。　Her　skates　felt　like　lead　weights；　dragging　her　down。　She　could　see　her　mother　lying　spread…eagle　on　the　ice　to　disperse　her　own　weight；　reaching　out。
　〃Kick；　Rachel！　Kick　with　your　feet！〃
　Rachel　kicked　as　best　as　she　could。　Her　body　rose　slightly　in　the　icy　hole。　A　spark　of　hope。　Her　mother　grabbed　on。
　〃Yes！〃　her　mother　shouted。　〃Help　me　lift　you！　Kick　with　your　feet！〃
　With　her　mother　pulling　from　above；　Rachel　used　the　last　of　her　energy　to　kick　with　her　skates。　It　was　just　enough；　and　her　mother　dragged　Rachel　up　to　safety。　She　dragged　the　soaking　Rachel　all　the　way　to　the　snowy　bank　before　collapsing　in　tears。
　Now；　inside　the　growing　humidity　and　heat　of　the　sub；　Rachel　opened　her　eyes　to　the　blackness　around　her。　She　heard　her　moth