sk.dreamcatcher-第69章

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gnition；　and　the　dashboard　lights　e　on　when　he　turns　the　key　…　got　the　battery　right；　anyway　…　but　the　engine　doesn't　start。　Doesn't　even　crank。　The　starter　makes　a　tut…tutting　sound　and　that's　all。
　　　　'Oh　dear　oh　gosh　dadrattit　number　two；'　he　says；　running　them　all　together　in　a　monotone。　He　isn't　sure　he　could　manifest　much　in　the　way　of　emotion　now　even　if　he　really　wanted　to。　He's　a　horror…movie　fan；　has　seen　Invasion　of　the　Body　Snatchers　two　dozen　times　（he　has　even　seen　the　wretched　remake；　the　one　with　Donald　Sutherland　in　it）；　and　he　knows　what's　going　on　here。　His　body　has　been　snatched；　most　righteously　and　pletely　snatched。　Although　there　will　be　no　army　of　zombies；　not　even　a　townful。　He　is　unique。　He　senses　that　Pete；　Henry；　and　the　Beav　are　also　unique　（was　unique；　in　the　Beav's　case）；　but　he　is　the　most　unique　of　all。　You're　not　　supposed　to　be　able　to　say　that　…　like　the　cheese　belonging　to　the　Farmer　in　the　Dell；　unique　supposedly　stands　alone　…　but　this　is　a　rare　case　where　that　rule　doesn't　apply。　Pete　and　Beaver　were　unique；　Henry　is　uniquer；　and　he；　Jonesy；　is　uniquest。　Look；　he's　even　starring　in　his　own　movie！　How　unique　is　that；　as　his　oldest　son　would　say。
　　　　The　gray　fellow　in　the　hospital　bed　looks　from　the　TV　where　Jonesy　I　is　sitting　astride　the　Arctic　Cat　to　the　chair　where　Jonesy　II　sits　in　his　blood…sodden　johnny。
　　　　What　are　you　hiding？　Mr　Gray　asks。
　　　　Nothing。
　　　　Why　do　you　keep　seeing　a　brick　wall？　What　is　19；　besides　a　prime　number？　Who　said　'Fuck　the　Tigers'？　What　does　that　mean？　What　is　the　brick　wall？　When　is　the　brick　wall？　What　does　it　mean；　why　do　you　keep　seeing　it？
　　　　He　can　feel　Mr　Gray　prying　at　him；　but　for　the　time　being　that　one　kernel　is　safe。　He　can　be　carried；　but　not　changed。　Not　entirely　opened；　either；　it　seems。　Not　yet；　at　least。
　　　　Jonesy　puts　his　finger　to　his　lips　and　gives　the　gray　fellow's　own　words　back　to　him：　Be　quiet；　watch　the　movie。
　　　　It　studies　him　with　the　black　bulbs　of　its　eyes　（they　are　insectile；　Jonesy　thinks；　the　eyes　of　a　praying　mantis）；　and　Jonesy　can　feel　it　prying　for　a　moment　or　two　longer。　Then　the　sensation　fades。　There　is　no　hurry；　sooner　or　later　it　will　dissolve　the　shell　over　that　last　kernel　of　pure　uninvaded　Jonesy；　and　then　it　will　know　everything　it　wants　to　know。
　　　　In　the　meantime；　they　watch　the　movie。　And　when　Bowser　crawls　into　Jonesy's　lap　…　Bowser　with　his　sharp　teeth　and　his　ethery　antifreeze　smell　…　Jonesy　barely　notices。
　　　　Jonesy　I；　Shed　Jonesy　（only　that　one's　now　actually　Mr　Gray）；　reaches　out。　There　are　many　minds　to　reach　out　to；　they　are　hopping　all　over　each　other　like　late…night　radio　transmissions；　and　he　finds　one　with　the　information　he　needs　easily　enough。　It's　like　opening　a　file　on　your　personal　puter　and　finding　a　wonderfully　detailed　3…D　movie　instead　of　words。
　　　　Mr　Gray's　source　is　Emil　'Dawg'　Brodsky；　from　Menlo　Park；　New　Jersey。　Brodsky　is　an　Army　Tech　Sergeant；　a　motor…pool　munchkin。　Only　here；　as　part　of　Kurtz's　Tactical　Response　Team；　Tech　Sergeant　Brodsky　has　no　rank。　No　one　else　does；　either。　He　calls　his　superiors　boss　and　those　who　rank　below　him　（there　are　not　many　of　those　at　this　particular　barbecue）　hey　you。　If　he　doesn't　know　which　is　which；　pal　or　buddy　will　do。
　　　　There　are　jets　overlying　the　area；　but　not　many　（they'll　be　able　to　get　all　the　pix　they　need　from　low　earth　orbit　if　the　clouds　ever　clear）；　and　they　are　not　Brodsky's　job；　anyway。　The　jets　fly　out　of　the　Air　National　Guard　base　in　Bangor；　and　he　is　here　in　Jefferson　Tract。　Brodsky's　job　is　the　choppers　and　the　trucks　in　the　rapidly　growing　motor…pool　（since　noon；　all　the　roads　in　this　part　of　the　state　have　been　closed　and　the　only　traffic　is　olive…green　trucks　with　their　insignia　masked）；　He's　also　in　charge　of　setting　up　at　least　four　generators　to　provide　the　electricity　needed　to　serve　the　pound　growing　around　Gosselin's　Market。　These　needs　include　motion　sensors；　Pole　lights；　perimeter　lights；　and　the　makeshift　operating　theatre　which　is　being　hastily　equipped　in　a　Windstar　motor　home。　　　　
　　　　Kurtz　has　made　it　clear　that　the　lights　are　a　big　deal　…　he　wants　this　place　as　bright　as　day　all　night　long。　The　greatest　number　of　pole　lights　is　going　up　around　the　barn　and　what　used　to　be　a　horse　corral　and　paddock　behind　the　barn。　In　the　field　where　old　Reggie　Gosselin's　forty　milkers　once　grazed　away　their　days；　two　tents　have　been　erected。　The　larger　has　a　sign　on　its　green　roof：　MISSARY。　The　other　tent　is　white　and　unmarked。　There　are　no　kerosene　heaters　in　it；　as　there　are　in　the　larger　tent；　and　no　need　of　them。　This　is　the　temporary　morgue；　Jonesy　understands。　There　are　only　three　bodies　in　there　now　（one　is　a　banker　who　tried　to　run　away；　foolish　man）；　but　soon　there　may　be　lots　more。　Unless　there's　an　accident　that　makes　collecting　bodies　difficult　or　impossible。　For　Kurtz；　the　boss；　such　an　accident　would　solve　all　sorts　of　problems。
　　　　And　all　that　is　by　the　way。　Jonesy　I's　Job　is　Emil　Brodsky　of　Menlo　Park。
　　　　Brodsky　is　striding　rapidly　across　the　snowy；　muddy；　churned…up　ground　between　the　helicopter　landing　zone　and　the　paddock　where　the　Ripley…positives　are　to　be　kept　（there　are　already　a　good　number　of　them　in　there；　walking　around　with　the　bewildered　expressions　of　freshly　interned　prisoners　the　world　over；　calling　out　to　the　guards；　asking　for　cigarettes　and　information　and　making　vain　threats）。　Emil　Brodsky　is　squat　and　crewcut；　with　a　bulldog　face　that　looks　made　for　cheap　cigars　（in　fact；　Jonesy　knows；　Brodsky　is　a　devout　Catholic　who　has　never　smoked）。　He's　as　busy　as　a　one…armed　paperhanger　just　now。　He's　got　earphones　on　and　a　receptionist's　mike　hung　in　front　of　his　lips。　He　is　in　radio　contact　with　the　fuel…supply　convoy　ing　up　I…95　…　those　guys　are　critical；　because　the　helicopters　out　on　mission　are　going　to　e　back　low　…　but　he's　also　talking　to　Cambry；　who　is　walking　next　to　him；　about　the　control…and…surveillance　center　Kurtz　wants　set　up　by　nine　P。m。；　midnight　at　the　latest。　This　mission　is　going　to　be　over　in　forty…eight　hours　at　the　outside；　that's　the　scuttlebutt；　but　who　the　fuck　knows　for　sure？　According　to　the　scuttlebutt；　their　prime　target；　Blue　Boy；　has　already　been　taken　out；　but　Brodsky　doesn't　know　how　anyone　can　be　sure　of　that；　since　the　big　assault　choppers　haven't　e　back　yet。　And　anyhow；　their　'ob　here　is　simple：　turn　the　whole　works　up　to　eleven　and　then　yank　the　knobs　off。
　　　　And　ye　gods；　all　at　once　there　are　three　Jonesys：　the　one　watching　TV　in　the　fungus…crawling　hospital　room；　the　one　in　the　snowmobile　shed　。　。　。　and　Jonesy　III；　who　suddenly　appears　in　Emil　Brodsky's　crewcut　Catholic　head。　Brodsky　stops　walking　and　simply　looks　up　into　the　white　sky。
　　　　Cambry　walks　on　three　or　four　steps　by　himself　before　realizing　that　Dawg　has　stopped　cold；　is　just　standing　there　in　the　middle　of　the　muddy　cow　pasture。　In　the　midst　of　all　this　frantic　bustle　…　running　men；　hovering　helicopters；　revving　engines　…　he's　standing　there　like　a　robot　with　a　dead　battery。
　　　　'Boss？'　Cambry　asks。　'Everything　all　right？'
　　　　Brodsky　makes　no　reply　。　。　。　at　least　not　to　Cambry；　he　doesn't。　To　Jonesy　I　…　Shed　Jonesy　…　he　says：　Open　the　engine　cowling　and　show　me　the　plugs。
　　　　Jonesy　has　some　trouble　finding　the　catch　that　opens　the　cowling；　but　Brodsky　directs　him。　Then　Jonesy　leans　over　the　small　engine；　not　looking　for　himself　but　turning　his　eyes　into　a　pair　of　high…res　cameras　and　sending　the　picture　back　to　Brodsky。
　　　　'Boss？'　Cambry　asks　with　increasing　concern。　'Boss；　what　is　it？　What's　wrong？'
　　　　'Nothing　wrong；'　Brodsky　says；　slowly　and　distinctly。　He　puts　the　headphones　down　around　his　neck；　the　chatter　in　them　is　a　distraction。　'Just　let　me　think　a　minute。'　　　
　　　　And　to　Jonesy：　Someone　yanked　the　plugs。　Look　around　。　。　。　yeah；　there　they　are。　End　of　the　table。
　　　　On　the　end　of　the　worktable　is　a　mayonnaise　jar　half　filled　with　gasoline。　The　jartop　has　been　vented　…　two　punches　with　the　tip　of　a　screwdriver　…　to　keep　the　fumes　from　building　up。　Sunk　in　it　like　exhibits　preserved　in　formaldehyde　are　two　Champion　sparkplugs。
　　　　Aloud；　Brodsky　says　'Dry　them　off　good；'　and　when　Cambry　asks；　'Dry　what　off　good？'　Brodsky　tells　him　absently　to　put　a　sock　in