p&c.icelimit-第25章

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　〃Jesus；〃　came　Lloyd's　voice。　〃That　could　give　the　whole　game　away。〃
　〃Potentially。　That　is　why　our　first　effort　will　be　to　prevent　a　visit。　The　Chileans　will　be　curious　to　meet　the　principals　…　the　captain；　the　chief　mining　engineer。　If　we　sent　underlings；　they　will　almost　certainly　insist　on　ing　aboard。〃
　〃What　about　me？〃　McFarlane　asked。　〃I'm　persona　non　grata　in　Chile；　remember？　I'd　just　as　soon　keep　a　low　profile。〃
　〃Sorry；　but　you're　our　ace　in　the　hole；〃　Glinn　replied。
　〃And　why　is　that？〃
　〃You're　the　only　one　of　us　who　has　actually　been　in　Chile。　You've　got　more　experience　in　situations　like　this。　In　the　very　remote　chance　that　events　play　out　along　an　unexpected　path；　we　need　your　instincts。〃
　〃Great。　I　don't　think　I'm　being　properly　pensated　for　taking　such　a　risk。〃
　〃Oh　yes　you　are。〃　Lloyd's　voice　sounded　testy。　〃Look；　Eli。　What　if　they　want　to　board　her　anyway？〃
　〃We've　prepared　a　special　reception　room　for　the　occasion。〃　
　〃Reception　room？　The　last　thing　we　want　is　them　hanging　about。〃
　〃The　room　will　not　encourage　any　lingering。　If　they　do　e　aboard；　they　will　be　escorted　to　the　forward　tankwashing　control　room。　It's　not　a　very　fortable　place。　We've　fitted　it　with　some　metal　chairs　…　not　enough　…　and　a　Formica　table。　The　heat's　been　turned　off。　We've　painted　parts　of　the　deck　with　a　chemical　wash　smelling　faintly　of　excrement　and　vomit。〃
　Lloyd's　laugh；　amplified　and　metallic；　rang　across　the　bridge。　〃Eli；　God　forbid　you　should　ever　direct　a　war。　But　what　if　they　want　to　see　the　bridge？〃
　〃We　have　a　strategy　for　that　as　well。　Trust　me；　Palmer；　when　we　get　through　with　the　customs　people　in　Puerto　Williams；　it　will　be　highly　unlikely　they　will　want　to　e　aboard；　and　even　less　likely　they　will　want　to　see　the　bridge。〃　He　turned。　〃Dr。　McFarlane；　from　now　on　you　speak　no　Spanish。　Just　follow　my　lead。　Let　me　and　Captain　Britton　do　all　the　talking。〃
　There　was　a　momentary　silence。　〃You　said　that　was　our　first　problem；〃　Lloyd　spoke　up　at　last。　〃Is　there　another　one？〃
　〃There's　an　errand　we　must　run　while　we're　in　Puerto　Williams。〃
　〃Dare　I　ask　what　that　might　be？〃
　〃I'm　planning　to　engage　the　services　of　a　man　named　John　Puppup。　We'll　have　to　find　him　and　get　him　on　board。〃　Lloyd　groaned。　〃Eli；　I'm　beginning　to　think　you　enjoy　springing　these　surprises　on　me。　Who　is　John　Puppup；　and　why　do　we　need　him？〃
　〃He's　half　Yaghan；　half　English。〃
　〃And　what　the　hell　is　a　Yaghan？〃
　〃The　Yaghan　Indians　were　the　original　inhabitants　of　the　Cape　Horn　islands。　They　are　now　extinct。　Only　a　few　mestizos　are　left。　Puppup　is　old；　perhaps　seventy。　He　basically　witnessed　the　extinction　of　his　people。　He's　the　last　to　retain　some　local　Indian　knowledge。〃
　The　overhead　speaker　fell　silent　a　moment。　Then　it　cracked　back　into　life。　〃Eli；　this　scheme　sounds　half…baked。　You　said　you　planned　to　engage　his　services？　Does　he　know　about　this？〃
　〃Not　yet。〃
　〃What　if　he　says　no？〃
　〃When　we　get　to　him；　he　won't　be　in　any　condition　to　say　no。　Besides；　haven't　you　heard　of　the　time…honored　naval　tradition　of　'impressment'？〃
　Lloyd　groaned。　〃So　now　we're　going　to　add　kidnapping　to　our　list　of　crimes。〃
　〃This　is　a　high…stakes　game；〃　said　Glinn。　〃You　knew　it　when　we　began。　Puppup　will　go　home　a　rich　man。　We　will　have　no　trouble　from　that　quarter。　The　only　trouble　will　be　locating　him　and　getting　him　aboard。〃
　〃Any　more　surprises？〃
　〃At　customs；　Dr。　McFarlane　and　myself　will　present　counterfeit　passports。　This　is　the　path　with　the　highest　certainty　of　success；　although　it　entails　some　minor　breaking　of　Chilean　law。〃
　〃Wait　a　minute；〃　McFarlane　said。　〃Traveling　with　fake　passports　is　breaking　American　law。〃
　〃It　will　never　be　known。　I　have　arranged　for　the　passport　records　to　be　lost　in　transit　between　Puerto　Williams　and　Punta　Arenas。　We　will　retain　your　real　passports；　of　course；　which　have　been　marked　with　the　correct　visas；　arrival；　and　departure　stamps。　Or　so　it　will　seem。〃
　He　looked　around；　as　if　asking　for　objections。　There　were　none。　The　chief　officer　was　at　the　helm；　steering　the　ship　impassively。　Captain　Britton　was　looking　at　Glinn。　Her　eyes　were　wide；　but　she　remained　silent。
　〃Very　well；〃　Lloyd　said。　〃But　I　have　to　tell　you；　Eli；　this　scheme　of　yours　makes　me　very　nervous。　I　want　an　immediate　update　when　you　get　back　from　customs。〃
　The　speaker　abruptly　went　dead。　Britton　nodded　to　Victor　Howell；　who　disappeared　into　the　radio　room。　〃Everyone　who　goes　into　port　is　going　to　have　to　look　the　part；〃　Glinn　said。　〃Dr。　McFarlane　can　go　as　he　is〃　…　Glinn　gave　him　a　rather　dismissive　once…over　…　〃but　Captain　Britton　will　need　to　be　several　degrees　less　formal。〃
　〃You　said　we'll　have　fake　passports；〃　McFarlane　said。　〃I　assume　we'll　have　fake　names　to　go　with　them？〃
　〃Correct。　You'll　be　Dr。　Sam　Widmanstatten。〃
　〃Cute。〃
　There　was　a　short　silence。　〃And　yourself？〃　Britton　asked。
　For　the　first　time　McFarlane　could　remember；　Glinn　laughed　…　a　low；　small　sound　that　seemed　to　be　mostly　breath。
　〃Call　me　Ishmael；〃　he　said。
　
　Chile；
　July　12；　9：30　A。M。
　
　THE　FOLLOWING　day；　the　great　ship　Rolvaag　lay　at　rest　in　the　Goree　Roads；　a　broad　channel　between　three　islands　rising　out　of　the　Pacific。　A　chill　sunlight　bathed　the　scene　in　sharp　relief。　McFarlane　stood　at　the　rail　of　the　Rolvaag's　launch；　a　small　decrepit　vessel　almost　as　rust…stained　as　its　parent；　and　stared　at　the　tanker　as　they　slowly　pulled　away。　It　looked　even　bigger　from　sea　level。　Far　above；　on　the　fantail；　he　could　see　Amira；　swaddled　in　a　parka　three　sizes　too　large。　〃Hey；　boss！〃　she　cried　faintly　as　she　waved；　〃don't　e　back　with　the　clap！〃
　The　boat　swung　around　in　the　chop　and　turned　toward　the　desolate　landscape　of　Isla　Navarino。　It　was　the　southernmost　inhabited　landmass　on　earth。　Unlike　the　mountainous　coast　they　had　passed　the　prior　afternoon；　the　eastern　flanks　of　Navarino　were　low　and　monotonous：　a　frozen；　snowcovered　swamp　descending　to　broad　shingled　beaches　pounded　by　Pacific　rollers。　There　was　no　sign　of　human　life。　Puerto　Williams　lay　some　twenty　miles　up　the　Beagle　Channel；　in　protected　waters。　McFarlane　shivered；　drawing　his　own　parka　more　tightly　around　him。　Spending　time　on　Isla　Desolacion　…　remote　even　by　the　standards　of　this　godforsaken　place　…　was　one　thing。　But　hanging　around　a　Chilean　harbor　made　him　nervous。　A　thousand　miles　north　of　here　there　were　still　plenty　of　people　who　would　remember　his　face　…　and　would　be　happy　to　acquaint　him　with　the　business　end　of　a　cattle　prod。　There　was　always　a　chance；　however　small；　that　one　of　them　would　now　be　stationed　down　here。
　There　was　a　movement　by　his　side　as　Glinn　joined　him　at　the　rail。　The　man　was　wearing　a　greasy　quilted　jacket；　several　layers　of　soiled　woolen　shirts；　and　an　orange　watchcap。　He　clutched　a　battered　briefcase　in　one　hand。　His　face；　fastidiously　clean…shaven　under　normal　conditions；　had　been　allowed　to　roughen。　A　bent　cigarette　dangled　from　his　lips；　and　McFarlane　could　see　he　was　actually　smoking　it；　inhaling　and　exhaling　with　every　indication　of　pleasure。
　〃I　don't　believe　we've　met；〃　McFarlane　said。
　〃I'm　Eli　Ishmael；　chief　mining　engineer。〃
　〃Well；　Mr。　Mining　Engineer；　if　I　didn't　know　better　I'd　say　you　were　actually　enjoying　yourself。〃
　Glinn　pulled　the　cigarette　from　his　mouth；　gazed　at　it　a　moment；　then　tossed　it　toward　the　frozen　seascape。　〃Enjoyment　is　not　necessarily　inpatible　with　success。〃
　McFarlane　gestured　at　his　shabby　clothes。　〃Where'd　you　get　all　this；　anyhow？　You　look　like　you've　been　stoking　coal。〃
　〃A　couple　of　costume　consultants　flew　in　from　Hollywood　while　the　ship　was　being　fitted；〃　Glinn　answered。　〃We've　got　a　few　sea　lockers　full；　enough　to　cover　any　contingency。〃
　〃Let's　hope　it　doesn't　e　to　that。　So　what　exactly　are　our　marching　orders？〃
　〃It's　very　simple。　Our　job　is　to　introduce　ourselves　at　customs；　handle　any　questions　about　the　mining　permits；　post　our　bond；　and　find　John　Puppup。　We're　a　wildcatting　outfit；　here　to　mine　iron　ore。　The　pany　is　teetering　on　bankruptcy；　and　this　is　our　last　shot。　If　someone　speaks　English　and　questions　you；　insist　belligerently　that　we　are　a　first…class　outfit。　But　as　much　as　possible；　don't　speak　at　all。　And　if　something　untoward　happens　at　customs；　re