cc.floodtide-第7部分

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elf　to　talk　to；　he　decided　to　concentrate　on　the　cameras。　Assuming　he　was　under　surveillance　and　his　every　movement　was　being　observed　by　someone　sitting　in　front　of　a　TV　monitor　on　the　other　side　of　the　lake；　he　sat　down　and　pretended　to　read　a　newspaper　while　his　mind　churned。　Let　them　see　what　they　want　in　the　living　room　and　bedroom；　he　reasoned。　The　kitchen　was　another　matter。　That　would　be　his　war　room。
　
　He　put　down　the　paper　and　began　putting　away　the　groceries　in　the　cupboards　and　refrigerator；　using　the　activity　as　a　distraction　while　his　eyes　darted　into　every　nook　and　cranny。　He　found　nothing　conspicuous。　Then　he　began　casually　glancing　at　the　log　walls　of　the　cabin；　peering　into　the　cracks　and　chinking。　He　finally　hit　paydirt　when　he　spotted　a　tiny　lens　pressed　into　a　wormhole；　burrowed　when　the　log　was　the　trunk　of　a　growing　tree。　Playing　the　role　of　an　actor　in　front　of　a　camera；　which　indeed　he　was；　Pitt　swept　the　floor　with　a　broom。　When　he　was　finished　he　turned　the　broom　upside　down　and　leaned　the　sweeper　part　against　the　wall　directly　in　front　of　the　camera。
　
　As　if　given　a　shot　to　spur　his　adrenaline；　he　brushed　off　any　feelings　of　fatigue　and　tension　and　stepped　outside；　walking　thirty　paces　away　from　the　cabin　into　the　woods。　He　pulled　a　Motorola　Iridium　phone　from　the　inside　pocket　of　his　jacket。　After　dialing　a　number；　his　signal　was　bounced　over　a　network　of　sixty…six　satellites　around　the　world　and　down　to　the　private　line　of　the　person　he　was　calling　at　the　NUMA　headquarters　in　Washington；　D。C。
　
　After　four　rings；　a　voice　with　a　slight　New　England　twang　answered。　〃This　is　Hiram　Yaeger。　Be　brief；　time　is　money。〃
　〃Your　time　isn't　worth　a　dime　stuck　in　gum　on　the　bottom　of　a　shoe。〃
　〃Am　I　the　subject　of　mockery　by　NUMA's　special　projects　director？〃
　〃You　are。〃
　〃What　are　you　doing　that's　not　worth　repeating？〃　asked　Yaeger　facetiously。　Yet　his　voice　betrayed　a　trace　of　concern。　He　knew　Pitt　was　still　recovering　from　injuries　suffered　during　a　volcanic　eruption　on　an　island　off　Australia　only　the　month　before。
　〃I　haven't　time　to　leave　you　breathless　with　my　daring　adventures　in　the　north　woods。　But　I　do　need　a　favor。〃　〃I'm　drooling　with　anticipation。〃
　〃See　what　you　can　dig　up　on　a　Qin　Shang。〃
　〃How's　it　spelled？〃
　〃Probably　like　it　sounds。　If　my　limited　knowledge　of　Chinese　menus　serves　me　correctly；　the　first　name　begins　with　a　Q。　Shang　is　a　Chinese　shipping　magnate　who　operates　out　of　Hong　Kong。　He　also　owns　a　private　retreat　on　Orion　Lake　in　Washington　State。〃
　〃Is　that　where　you're　at？〃　asked　Yaeger。　〃You　never　told　anyone　where　you　were　going　when　you　up　and　disappeared。〃
　〃I'd　just　as　soon　Admiral　Sandecker　was　kept　in　the　dark。〃
　〃He'll　find　out　anyway。　He　always　does。　Just　what　is　it　that　intrigues　you　about　Shang？〃
　〃You　might　say　I'm　irritated　by　nosy　neighbors；〃　replied　Pitt。
　〃Why　don't　you　go　over　and　borrow　a　cup　of　sugar；　have　a　few　laughs　and　challenge　him　to　a　fast　game　of　mah…jongg。〃
　〃According　to　the　locals；　no　one　can　get　within　ten　city　blocks　of　his　place。　And　at　that；　I　doubt　if　he's　at　home。　If　Shang　is　like　most　wealthy　celebrities；　he　has　several　different　houses　around　the　world。〃
　〃Why　does　this　guy　consume　you　with　curiosity？〃　〃No　upstanding　citizen　has　a　mania　about　security　unless　he　has　something　to　hide；〃　said　Pitt。
　〃Sounds　to　me　like　you're　bored；　lying　around　the　primeval　forest；　watching　moss　grow　on　the　rocks。　You've　missed　one　of　life's　pleasures　if　you　haven't　tried　to　outstare　a　moose　for　forty…five　minutes。〃
　〃I've　never　been　turned　on　by　apathy。〃　〃Any　other　requests　while　I'm　in　the　mood？〃　asked　Yaeger。　〃Now　that　you　mention　it；　I　do　have　a　wish　list　of　Christmas　goodies　I'd　like　boxed　and　sent　out　tonight　so　I　can　have　them　no　later　than　tomorrow　afternoon。〃
　〃Fire　away；〃　said　Yaeger。　〃I've　turned　on　the　recorder　and　will　print　them　out　when　you're　finished。〃
　Pitt　described　the　articles　and　equipment　he　required。　When　he　finished；　he　added；　〃Throw　in　a　Department　of　Natural　Resources　chart　of　Orion　Lake　showing　bathymetric　data　and　fish　species；　underwater　wrecks　and　obstructions。〃
　〃The　plot　thickens。　For　a　guy　who　was　battered　to　a　pulp　and　just　released　from　a　hospital；　don't　you　think　you're　overdoing　it？〃
　〃Play　along　with　me　and　I'll　mail　you　five　pounds　of　smoked　salmon。〃
　〃I　hate　being　a　weenie；〃　Yaeger　sighed。　〃Okay；　I'll　take　care　of　your　toys　before　I　make　inquiries　through　proper　and　unproper　channels　on　Qin　Shang。　With　luck；　I'll　give　you　his　blood　type。〃
　
　Pitt　knew　from　experience　that　data　buried　and　secreted　in　classified　files　was　not　immune　to　Yaeger's　ferretlike　talents。　〃Set　those　fat　little　fingers　flying　over　your　keyboard　and　call　me　at　my　Indium　number　when　you　turn　up　something。〃
　
　Yaeger　hung　up　the　phone；　leaned　back　in　his　chair　and　stared　thoughtfully　at　the　ceiling　for　several　moments。　Yaeger　looked　more　like　a　street…corner　panhandler　than　he　did　a　brilliant　puter…systems　analyst。　He　kept　his　graying　hair　in　a　ponytail　and　dressed　like　an　aging　hippie；　which　he　was。　Yaeger　was　head　of　NUMA's　puter…data　network；　which　contained　a　vast　library　on　every　book；　article　and　thesis；　whether　scientific；　historical　fact　or　theory；　ever　recorded　on　the　world's　oceans。
　
　Yaeger's　puter　domain　took　up　the　entire　tenth　floor　of　the　NUMA　building。　It　had　taken　years　to　put　together　the　massive　library。　His　boss　had　given　him　a　free　hand　and　unlimited　funding　for　accumulating　every　recorded　bit　of　knowledge　on　ocean　science　and　technology　so　it　could　be　available　to　ocean…science　students；　professional　oceanographers；　marine　engineers　and　underwater　archaeologists　around　the　world。　The　job　carried　enormous　responsibility；　but　it　was　a　job　Yaeger　loved　with　a　passion。
　
　He　turned　his　gaze　on　the　expansive　puter　he　had　designed　and　built　himself。　〃Fat　fingers　on　a　keyboard；　hah！〃　There　was　no　keyboard　and　no　monitor。　As　with　virtual　reality；　images　were　projected　in　three　dimensions　in　front　of　the　user。　Instead　of　typing　on　keys；　mands　were　spoken。　A　caricature　of　Yaeger；　enhanced　and　fleshed　out；　stared　back　at　him。
　
　〃Well；　Max；　you　ready　to　go　cruising？〃　Yaeger　asked　the　image。
　〃I　am　prime；〃　replied　a　disembodied　voice。
　〃Acquire　all　available　information　on　a　Qin　Shang；　a　Chinese　shipping…pany　owner；　whose　main　office　is　in　Hong　Kong。〃
　〃Data　insufficient　for　a　detailed　report；〃　said　Max　in　a　monotone。
　〃Not　much　to　go　on；　I　admit；〃　said　Yaeger；　never　quite　getting　the　hang　of　talking　to　a　nebulous　image　produced　by　a　machine。　〃Do　the　best　you　can。　Print　out　your　findings　when　you've　exhausted　all　the　networks。〃
　〃I　will　get　back　to　you　shortly；〃　droned　Max。
　Yaeger　stared　at　the　space　vacated　by　his　holographic　likeness；　his　eyes　narrow　and　questioning。　Pitt　had　never　asked　him　to　research　and　build　a　file　unless　he　had　good　reason。　Something；　Yaeger　knew；　was　running　around　in　his　Mend's　head。　Quandaries　and　enigmas　followed　Pitt　around　like　puppy　dogs。　He　was　drawn　to　trouble　like　salmon　to　their　spawning　grounds。　Yaeger　hoped　Pitt　would　reveal　the　mystery。　He　always　did；　he　always　had　to　when　his　projects　went　beyond　the　mere　realm　of　casual　interest。
　
　〃What　in　hell　is　the　crazy　bastard　up　to　this　time？〃　Yaeger　muttered　to　his　puter。
　
　ORION　LAKE　WAS　SHAPED　LIKE　A　SLENDER　TEARDROP　WHOSE　lower　end　gently　tapered　into　a　small　river。　Not　a　large　body　of　water　but　alluring　and　mystical；　its　shores　were　bordered　by　an　ocean　of　dense　green　forests　that　sloped　up　the　gray　rock　bluffs　of　the　majestic；　cloud…shrouded　Olympic　Mountains。　Vividly　colored　spring　wildflowers　bloomed　beneath　the　trees　and　in　small　meadows。　Meltwater　from　high…country　glaciers　fed　into　the　lake　through　several　streams；　carrying　minerals　that　gave　the　water　a　crystal　blue…green　color。　The　cobalt　sky　above　was　garnished　with　fast…moving　clouds；　all　reflecting　off　the　water；　which　gave　them　a　light　turquoise　tint。
　
　The　flow　of　water　that　drained　from　the　lower　tip　of　the　teardrop　was　appropriately　called　the　Orion　River。　Running　peacefully　through　a　canyon　sliced　between　the　mountains；　the　river　traveled　sixteen　miles　before　emptying　into　the　upper　end　of　a　fjordlike　inlet　called　Grapevine　Bay。　Carved　by　an　ancient　glacier；　Grapevine　Bay　opened　into　the　Pacific　Ocean。　The　river；　once　traveled　by　fishing　boats　that　unloaded　their　catch　at　the　old　cannery；　was　now　only　used　by　pleasure　boats　and　fishermen。
　
　The　next　afternoon　after　his　trip　to　town；　Pitt　stepped　from　the　cabin　onto　the　porch　and　inhaled。　A　light　rain　had　e　and　passed；　leaving　the　air　like　perfume　to　the　lungs；　pure　and　intoxicating。　The　sun　had　fallen　behind　the　mountains；　its　final　rays　angling　down　through　the　ravines　between　the　peaks。　It　was　a　timeless　scene。　Only　the　abandoned　homes　and　cabins　gave　the　lake　a　haunted　look。
　
　He　stepped　across　a　narrow　wooden　pier　leading　from　the　beach　to　a　boathouse　that　floated　on　the　water。　He　selected　a　key　on　a　ring　and　sprung　the　heavy　padlock　sealing　the　weatherworn　wooden　door。　The　interior　was　dark。　No　bugs　or　cameras　in　here；　he　thought　as　he　pushed　the　door　wide　open。　Suspended　over　the　water　by　cradles　attached　to　an　electric　hoist；　a　little　ten…foot　sailboat　and　a　twenty…one…foot　1933　Chris…Craft　runabout　with　a　double　cockpit　and　a　gleaming　mahogany　hull　hung　inside　the　boathouse。　Two　kayaks　and　a　canoe　sat　in　racks　along　both　walls。
　
　He　walked　over　to　an　electric…circuit　box　and　snapped　on　a　single　breaker。　Then　he　took　the　control　unit　that　was　wired　to　the　hoist　and　pushed　a　button。　The　hoist　whirred　as　it　moved　over　the　sailboat。　Pitt　slid　the　hook　that　dangled　from　the　hoist　though　a　metal　loop　on　the　cradle　and　lowered　it。　For　the　first　time　in　many　months；　the　sailboat's　fiberglass　hull　settled　into　the　water。
　
　Pitt　removed　the　neatly　folded　sails　from　a　locker　and　assembled　the　aluminum　mast　and　added　the　rigging。　Then　he　set　the　tiller　in　its　spindles　and　inserted　the　centerboard。　After　nearly　half　an　hour；　the　little　boat　was　ready　to　fill　her　sails　with　wind。　Only　the　mast　had　to　be　stepped；　a　small　chore　that　could　only　take　place　after　the　hull　was　pushed　from　under　the　roof　of　the　boathouse。
　
　Satisfied　everything