p&c.icelimit-第46章
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ne off while awake。 As a uniform； he found it vastly more intimidating than a policeman's and only a little less so than the grim reaper's。 Surgical smocks； especially when flecked with blood； tended to hurry office visits along and speed unnecessary conversations。
He stepped out of his cabin and paused in the long hallway of the medical suite； surveying the parallel lines of open doorways。 Nobody in the waiting room。 Ten beds； all empty。 It was most satisfactory。
Entering the medical laboratory； he washed his hands in the oversized sink； then flicked the water from his fingers while turning in a small circle； in an irreverent imitation of a priest。 Nudging the hot…air dryer with his elbow； he rubbed his knobbed old hands before the gush of air。 As he did so； he gazed around at the neat rows of well…worn books： overflow from his cabin。 Above them he had hung two pictures： a depiction of Jesus Christ； with the fire and thorns of the sacred heart； and a small； faded photograph of two identical babies in sailor suits。 The picture of Christ reminded him of many things； some self…contradictory but always interesting。 The picture of himself and his twin brother； Simon； who had been murdered by a mugger in New York City； reminded him of why he had never married or had children。
He pulled on a pair of latex gloves； snapped on the ring light； and swiveled the magnifying glass into place over the gurney。 Then he opened the evidence locker and stared disapprovingly at the jumble of bones。 He could see right away that several were missing； and the rest had been tossed in higgledy…piggledy； with no regard for anatomy。 He shook his wizened head at the general inpetence of the world。
He began removing the bones； identifying them； and arranging them in their proper places on the gurney。 Not much sign of animal damage； beyond the nibblings of rodents。 Then his brow furrowed。 The number of perimortem breaks was unusual； even remarkable。 He paused； a nugget of bone suspended halfway between locker and gurney。 Then； more slowly； he placed it on the metal surface。 There was a stillness in the medical suite as Brambell stepped back； folded his green…suited arms； and stared at the remains。
Ever since his Dublin childhood； his mother had entertained dreams of her twin lads growing up to be doctors。 Ma Brambell had been an irresistible natural force； and so； like his brother Simon； Patrick had gone to medical school。 While Simon had relished the job and gone on to great acclaim as a medical examiner in New York； Patrick found himself resenting the time away from literature。 Over the years； he had gravitated to ships； most recently to large tankers； where the crews were small and the acmodations fortable。 And so far； the Rolvaag had lived up to his expectations。 No parade of broken bones； raging fevers； or dripping cases of clap。 Aside from a few bouts of seasickness； a sinus infection； and of course Glinn's preoccupation with the meteorite hunter； he had been left to read his books。 Until now。
But as he stared at the collection of broken bones； Brambell felt an uncharacteristic curiosity stirring within him。 The silence of the medical lab was broken by the whistled strains of 〃The Sprig of Shillelagh。〃
More quickly now； Brambell； whistling merrily； finished laying out the skeleton。 He examined the effects： buttons； bits of clothing； an old boot。 Of course there was only one boot； the daft beggars had missed the other。 Along with the right clavicle； a piece of the ilium； the left radius； carpals and intercarpals。。。 He made a mental list of the missing bones。 At least the skull was there； if in several pieces。
He bent closer。 It； too； was webbed with perimortem fractures。 The rim of the orbit was heavy； the mandible robust； definitely a male。 From the state of the sutural closing he would be about thirty…five； maybe forty。 A small man； no more than five foot seven； but powerfully built； with well…developed muscle attachments。 Years of fieldwork； no doubt。 This fit the profile of the planetary geologist Nestor Masangkay that Glinn had given him。
Many of the teeth were snapped off at the root。 It looked like the poor man had convulsed so hard in his death throes that he had broken all his teeth； and even split his jaw。
Still whistling； Brambell turned his attention to the postcranial skeleton。 Virtually every bone that could be broken was broken。 He wondered what could have caused such massive trauma。 It was apparently a blow to the front； striking simultaneously from toe to crown。 He was reminded of a poor skydiver he had autopsied in medical school； the man had packed his chute wrong and fallen three thousand feet onto the middle of I…95。
Brambell caught his breath； 〃The Sprig of Shillelagh〃 suddenly dying on his lips。 He had been so caught up by the fracturing of the bones that he had not stopped to examine their other characteristics。 But now； as he did so； he could see that the proximal phalanges showed flaking and crumbling characteristic of high heat … or severe burning。 Almost all of the distal phalanges were missing； probably pletely burned up。 Toes and fingers。 He bent closer。 The broken teeth were scorched； the brittle enamel spalling off。
His eyes made a circuit of the remains。 The parietal showed heavy burn damage； the bone soft and crumbling。 He bent down； sniffed。 Ah； yes： he could even smell it。 And what was this？ Brambell picked up a belt buckle。 The bloody thing was melted。 And the single boot wasn't just rotten … it too had burned。 The bits of cloth were also scorched。 That devil； Glinn； hadn't mentioned a word of this； although he surely must have noticed。
Then Brambell rocked back on his feet。 It was with a twinge of regret that he realized there was no mystery here； after all。 He now knew exactly how the prospector had died。
In the dim light of the medical spaces； 〃The Sprig of Shillelagh〃 started up once again； the merry tune now sounding a little mournful； as Brambell carefully closed up the evidence locker and returned to his bunk。
Isla Desolacion；
10：00 A。M。
MCFARLANE STOOD at the frosted window of the munications center； melting a hole with his hand。 Clouds hung heavy over the Jaws of Hanuxa； casting a pall of darkness over the Cape Horn islands。 Behind him； Rochefort； more tense than usual； was typing at a Silicon Graphics workstation。
The last half hour had seen a frenzy of activity。 The corrugated…metal shack that shielded the meteorite from view had been moved to one side； and the area above the rock had been freshly bladed down to dirt； a dark brown scar on the white fairyland of snow。 A small army of workers swarmed about； each at some obscure task。 The radio traffic had been a perfect Babel of technical inprehension。
Outside； a deep…throated whistle blew。 McFarlane felt his pulse quicken。
The door to the hut banged open and Amira entered； a wide smile on her face。 ing in behind； Glinn closed the door carefully； then went to stand behind Rochefort。 〃Lift sequence ready？〃 he asked。
〃Check。〃
Glinn lifted a radio and spoke into it。 〃Mr。 Garza？ Five minutes to lift。 Please monitor this frequency。〃 He dropped the radio and glanced at Amira； who had taken a seat at a nearby console and was fitting an earphone。 〃Servos？〃
〃On line；〃 she replied。
〃So what will we see？〃 McFarlane asked。 Already； he could anticipate Lloyd's barrage of questions during the next videoconference。
〃Nothing；〃 said Glinn。 〃We're only raising it six centimeters。 There might be a little crackling of the earth above。〃 He nodded to Rochefort。 〃Bring the jacks up to sixty tons each。〃
Rochefort's hands moved across the keyboard。 〃Jacks are uniformly engaging。 No slippage。〃
There was a faint； subaudible vibration in the ground。 Glinn and Rochefort bent close to the screen； examining the data that scrolled past。 They seemed perfectly calm and unconcerned。 Typing； waiting； typing some more。 It seemed so routine。 Not exactly the kind of meteorite hunting McFarlane was used to： digging in some sheikh's backyard by moonlight； heart in mouth； muffling every bite of the shovel。
〃Bring the jacks up to seventy；〃 said Glinn。
〃Done。〃
There was a long； boring wait。
〃Damn；〃 Rochefort
