alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第3部分

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e　as　they　diminished　in　strength；　slipped　away　to　the　left　as　the　plane　banked　sharply　to　the　right　and　came　curving　round　clockwise　to　the　north。　I　knew　now　what　the　pilot　was　intending　and　my　hands　clenched　helplessly　inside　mittens　and　gloves。　But　there　was　nothing　I　could　do　about　this。
　
　〃The　antenna！〃　I　shouted。　〃Follow　out　the　line　of　the　antenna。〃　I　stooped　and　gave　the　sledge　its　initial　shove　as　Jackstraw　shouted　at　Balto。　Joss　was　by　my　side；　head　close　to　mine。
　
　〃What's　happening？　Why　are　we…〃
　
　〃He's　ing　down　this　time。　I'm　sure　of　it。　To　the　north。〃
　
　〃The　north？〃　Not　even　the　snow…mask　could　hide　the　horror　in　his　voice。　〃He'll　kill　himself。　He'll　kill　all　of　them。　The　hummocks…〃
　
　〃I　know。〃　The　land　to　the　north…east　was　broken　and　uneven；　the　ice　raised　up　by　some　quirk　of　nature　into　a　series　of　tiny　hillocks；　ten；　twenty　feet　high；　tiny　but　the　only　ones　within　a　hundred　miles。　〃But　he's　going　to　do　it；　all　the　same。　A　belly　landing　with　the　wheels　up。　That's　why　he　reversed　his　circle。　He　wants　to　land　upwind　to　give　himself　the　minimum　stalling　ground　speed。〃
　
　〃He　could　land　to　the　south；　into　the　wind。〃　Joss　sounded　almost　desperate。　〃It's　a　billiard　table　there。〃
　
　〃He　could；　but　he　won't。〃　I　had　to　shout　the　words　to　make　myself　heard　above　the　wind。　〃He's　nobody's　fool。　He　knows　if　he　lands　to　windward　of　us；　even　a　hundred　yards　to　windward；　the　chances　of　finding　our　lights；　our　cabin；　in　this　weather　just　don't　exist。　He's　got　to　land　upwind。　He's　just　got　to。〃
　
　There　was　a　long　silence　as　we　staggered　forward；　head　and　shoulders　bent　almost　to　waist　ievel　against　the　wind　and　ice…filled　drift；　then　Joss　moved　close　again。
　
　〃Maybe　he'll　see　the　hummocks　in　time。　Maybe　he　can…〃
　
　〃He'll　never　see　them；〃　I　said　flatly。　〃Flying　into　this　stuff　he　can't　possibly　see　a　hundred　yards　in　front　of　him。〃
　
　The　radio　antenna；　rime…coated　now　to　almost　fifty　times　its　normal　size；　sagging　deeply　and　swaying　pendulum…like　in　the　wind　between　each　pair　of　fourteen…foot　poles　that　supported　it；　stretched　away　almost　250　feet　to　the　north。　We　were　following　the　line　of　this；　groping　our　way　blindly　from　pole　to　pole　and　almost　at　the　end　of　the　line；　when　the　roar　of　the　aircraft　engines；　for　the　last　few　seconds　no　more　than　a　subdued　murmur　in　the　night　as　the　wind　carried　the　sound　from　us；　suddenly　swelled　and　increased　to　a　deafening　crescendo　as　I　shouted　a　warning　to　the　others　and　flung　myself　flat　on　the　ground：　the　huge　dark　shape　of　the　airliner　swept　directly　over　us　even　as　I　fell。　I　would　have　sworn；　at　the　time；　that　I　could　have　reached　out　and　touched　it　with　my　hand；　but　it　must　have　cleared　us　by　at　least　ten　feet…the　antenna　poles；　we　later　discovered；　were　undamaged。
　
　Like　a　fool；　I　immediately　leapt　to　my　feet　to　try　to　get　a　bearing　on　the　vanishing　plane　and　was　literally　blown　head　over　heels　by　the　tremendous　slipstream　from　the　four　great　propellers；　slid　helplessly　across　the　frozen　crust　of　the　snow　and　fetched　up　on　my　back　almost　twenty　feet　from　where　I　had　been　standing。　Cursing；　bruised　and　not　a　little　dazed；　I　got　to　my　feet　again；　started　off　in　the　direction　where　I　could　hear　the　dogs　barking　and　howling　in　a　paroxysm　of　fear　and　excitement；　then　stopped　abruptly　and　stood　quite　still。　The　engines　had　died；　all　four　of　them　had　died　in　an　instant；　and　that　could　mean　only　one　thing：　the　airliner　was　about　to　touch　down。　Even　with　the　realisation　a　jarring　vibration；　of　a　power　and　intensity　far　beyond　anything　I　had　expected；　reached　my　feet　through　the　frozen　crust　of　the　ice…cap。　No　ordinary　touchdown　that；　I　knew；　not　even　for　a　belly　landing：　the　pilot　must　have　overestimated　his　height　and　set　his　ship　down　with　force　enough　to　crumple　the　fuselage；　to　wreck　the　plane　on　the　spot。
　
　But　he　hadn't。　I　was　prone　to　the　frozen　snow　again；　ear　pressed　hard　against　it；　and　I　could　half　hear；　half　feel；　a　kind　of　hissing　tremor　which　could　only　have　e　from　the　fuselage；　no　doubt　already　splintered　and　ripped；　sliding　over　the　ice；　gouging　a　furrowed　path　through　it。　How　long　this　sound　continued；　I　couldn't　be　sure…six　seconds；　perhaps　eight。　And　then；　all　at　once；　came　another　earth　tremor；　severer　by　far　than　the　first；　and　I　heard　clearly；　even　above　the　gale；　the　sudden　sharp　sound　of　the　crash；　the　grinding　tearing　scream　of　metal　being　twisted　and　tortured　out　of　shape。　And　then；　abruptly；　silence…a　silence　deep　and　still　and　ominous；　and　the　sound　of　the　wind　in　the　darkness　was　no　sound　at　all。
　
　Shakily；　I　rose　to　my　feet。　It　was　then　I　realised　for　the　first　time　that　I　had　lost　my　snow…mask…it　must　have　ripped　off　as　I　had　rolled　along　the　ground。　I　brought　out　my　torch　from　under　my　parka…it　was　always　kept　there　as　even　a　dry　battery　could　freeze　and　give　no　light　at　all　if　the　temperature　fell　low　enough…and　probed　around　in　the　darkness。　But　there　was　no　sign　of　it；　the　wind　could　have　carried　it　a　hundred　yards　away　by　this　time。　A　bad　business；　indeed；　but　there　was　no　help　for　it。　I　didn't　like　to　think　what　my　face　would　be　like　by　the　time　I　arrived　back　at　the　cabin。
　
　Joss　and　Jackstraw　were　still　trying　to　quieten　the　dogs　when　I　rejoined　them。
　
　〃You　all　right；　sir？〃　Joss　asked。　He　took　a　step　closer。　〃Good　lord；　you've　lost　your　mask！〃
　
　〃I　know。　It　doesn't　matter。〃　It　did　matter；　for　already　I　could　feel　the　burning　sensation　in　my　throat　and　lungs　every　time　I　breathed。　〃Did　you　get　a　bearing　on　that　plane？〃
　
　〃Roughly。　Due　east；　I　should　say。〃
　
　〃Jackstraw？〃
　
　〃A　little　north　of　east；　I　think。〃　He　stretched　out　his　hand；　pointing　straight　into　the　eye　of　the　wind。
　
　〃We'll　go　east。〃　Somebody　had　to　make　the　decision；　somebody　had　to　be　wrong；　and　it　might　as　well　be　me。　〃We'll　go　east…Joss；　how　long　is　that　spool？〃
　
　〃Four　hundred　yards。　More　or　less。〃
　
　〃So。　Four　hundred　yards；　then　due　north。　That　plane　is　bound　to　have　left　tracks　in　the　snow：　with　luck；　we'll　cut　across　them。　Let's　hope　to　heaven　it　did　touch　down　less　than　four　hundred　yards　from　here。〃
　
　I　took　the　end　of　the　line　from　the　spool；　went　to　the　nearest　antenna　pole；　broke　off　the　four…foot…long　flag…like　frost　feathers…weird　growths　of　the　crystal　aggregates　of　rime　that　streamed　out　almost　horizontally　to　leeward…and　made　fast　the　end　of　the　line　round　the　pole。　I　really　made　it　fast…our　lives　depended　on　that　line；　and　without　it　we　could　never　find　our　way　back　to　the　antenna；　and　so　eventually　to　the　cabin；　through　the　pitch…dark　confusion　of　that　gale…ridden　arctic　night。　There　was　no　possibility　of　retracing　steps　through　the　snow：　in　that　intense　cold；　the　rime…crusted　snow　was　pacted　into　a　frozen　neve　that　was　but　one　degree　removed　from　ice；　of　an　iron…hard　consistency　that　would　show　nothing　less　than　the　crimp　marks　of　a　five…ton　tractor。
　
　We　started　off　at　once；　with　the　wind　almost　in　our　faces；　but　slightly　to　the　left。　I　was　in　the　lead；　Jackstraw　came　behind　with　the　dogs　and　Joss　brought　up　the　rear；　unreeling　the　line　from　the　homing　spool　against　the　pressure　of　the　return　winding　spring。
　
　Without　my　mask；　that　blinding　suffocating　drift　was　a　nightmare；　a　cruel　refinement　of　contrasting　torture　where　the　burning　in　my　throat　contrasted　with　the　pain　of　my　freezing　face　for　dominance　in　my　mind。　I　was　coughing　constantly　in　the　super…chilled　air；　no　matter　how　I　tried　to　cover　mouth　and　nose　with　a　gloved　hand；　no　matter　how　shallowly　I　breathed　to　avoid　frosting　my　lungs。
　
　The　devil　of　it　was；　shallow　breathing　was　impossible。　We　were　running　now；　running　as　fast　as　the　ice…glazed　slipperiness　of　the　surface　and　our　bulky　furs　would　allow；　for　to　unprotected　people　exposed　to　these　temperatures；　to　that　murderous　drift…filled　gale；　life　or　death　was　simply　a　factor　of　speed；　of　the　duration　of　exposure。　Maybe　the　plane　had　ripped　open　or　broken　in　half；　catapulting　the　survivors　out　on　to　the　ice…cap…if　there　were　any　survivors：　for　them；　either　immediate　death　as　the　heart　failed　in　the　near　impossible　task　of　adjusting　the　body　to　an　instantaneous　change　of　over　100°　F；　or　death　by　exposure　within　five　minutes。　Or　maybe　they　were　all　trapped　inside　slowly　freezing。　How　to　get　at　them？　How　to　transport　them　all　back　to　the　cabin？　But　only　the　first　few　to　be　taken　could　have　any　hope。　And　even　if　we　did　get　them　all　back；　how　to　feed　them…for　our　own　supplies　were　already　dangerously　low？　And　where；　in　heaven's　name；　were　we　going　to　put　them　all？
　
　Jackstraw's　shout　checked　me　so　suddenly　that　I　stumbled　and　all　but　fell。　I　turned　back；　and　Joss　came　running　up。
　
　〃The　end　of　the　line？〃　I　asked。
　
　He　nodded；　flashed　a　torch　in　my　face。　〃Your　nose　and　cheek　…both　gone。　They　look　bad。〃
　
　Gloves　off；　I　kneaded　my　face　vigorously　with　my　mittened　hands　until　I　felt　the　blood　pounding　painfully　back；　then　took　the　old　jersey　which　Jackstraw　dug　out　from　a　gunny　sack　and　wrapped　it　round　my　face。　It　wasn't　much；　but　it　was　better　than　nothing。
　
　We　struck　off　to　the　north；　with　the　wind　on　our　right　cheeks　…1　had　no　option　but　to　gamble　on　the　hope　that　the　wind　had　neither　backed　nor　veered…our　torches　probing　the　ground　in　front　of　us；　stopping　every　fifteen　or　twenty　feet　to　drive　a　pointed　bamboo　marker　into　the　frozen　ground。　We　had　covered　fifty　yards　without　sighting　anything；　and　I　was　just　beginning　to　bee　convinced　that　we　must　still　be　well　to　the　west　of　the　plane's　touchdown　point　and　wondering　what　in　the　world　we　should　do　next　when　we　almost　literally　stumbled　into　an　eighteen　inch　deep；　ten　foot　wide　depression　in　the　snow…crust　of　the　ice…cap。
　
　This　was　it；　no　question　about　that。　By　a　one　in　a　hundred　chance　we　had　hit　on　the　very　spot　where　the　plane　had　touched　down…or　crashed　down；　if　the　size　of　the　depression　in　that　frozen　snow　were　anything　to　go　by。　To　the　left；　the　west；　the　ground　was　virginal；　unmarked…ten　feet　to　that　side　and　we　should　have　missed　it　altogether。　To　the　east；　the　deep　depression　shelved　rapidly　upwards；　its　smooth　convexity　now　marred　by　two　large　gouge　marks；　one　in　the　centre　and　one　to　the　right　of　the　track；　as　if　a　pair　of　gigantic　ploughs　had　furrowed　thr