rm.thenightboat-第11部分

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er。。。　including　that　machine。〃
　　〃No　gods　created　it；〃　Moore　said。　〃Men　did。〃
　　Boniface　nodded　gravely。　〃And　are　men　not　guided　by　their　gods；　be　it　the　god　of　peace　or　the　god　of　war？〃　He　stared　into　Moore's　face　for　a　moment　and　saw　something　there　that　disturbed　him。　Then　he　turned　to　the　constable。　〃All　manner　of　things　have　their　life　forces；　for　good　or　for　evil；　and　I　am　very　familiar　with　the　forces　that　rule　that　boat。〃
　　The　man　was　openly　talking　voodoo　now。　〃You　speak　of　it　as　if　you　really　thought　it　was　alive。。。〃　Kip　said　impatiently。
　　〃Because　I　know！〃　Boniface　hissed。　〃I　remember。。。〃　He　caught　himself；　looked　away　into　the　harbor。
　　〃Remember　what？〃　Kip　asked。
　　〃The　fire；〃　Boniface　said　very　quietly。
　　Kip　had　heard　hushed　mention　of　it　since　he'd　been　on　Coquina。　It　had　happened　during　the　war…a　great　blaze　that　had　consumed　most　of　the　island's　dwellings；　sweeping　out　across　the　jungle　and　killing　a　score　of　people。　He'd　tried　to　learn　more；　for　the　sake　of　curiosity；　from　Langstree　at　the　boatyards　and　some　of　the　other　old…timers；　but　it　was　a　subject　no　one　wished　to　discuss　freely。　〃What　about　the　fire？〃
　　The　sun　was　slowly　filling　in　the　shadows　of　the　reverend's　face；　settling　into　the　lines。　They　were　like　wrinkles　in　an　ancient　piece　of　parchment。　He　was　silent　for　a　long　long　while；　and　when　he　spoke　it　was　with　a　genuine　effort。
　　〃It　began　with　a　screaming　in　the　sky；　as　if　all　the　heavens　were　wailing；　as　if　the　night　sky　had　gone　mad。　At　first　it　sounded　distant。。。　very　distant。。。　then　louder　and　louder；　cloaking　the　senses　in　noise　and　heat。　There　was　an　explosion　in　the　boatyard；　and　another　and　another；　glass　burst　from　windows　and　people　were　thrown　to　the　ground　by　the　blow　of　an　invisible　fist。　I　remember；　oui；　I　remember　too　well。　Something　exploded　among　the　fishermen's　houses　and　the　flames　began　there。　The　wind　whipped　in；　tossed　sparks　into　the　sky；　scattered　them　through　the　jungle。　The　strongest　of　us　helped　whomever　we　could　to　get　away　from　the　village；　and　we　escaped　to　the　sea　in　the　few　boats　that　were　still　moored　to　the　broken　wharfs。〃　He　paused；　his　eyes　bitter；　his　tongue　darted　out　and　licked　his　dry　lower　lip。
　　〃We　could　see　the　blossomings　of　the　fires　all　along　the　beach　and　stretching　toward　the　jungle。　The　British　had　a　few　freighters　and　a　patrol　boat　moored　in　the　burning　boatyard；　and　they　were　trying　to　get　them　out　to　the　open　sea；　there　was　much　shouting　and　screaming；　and　their　patrol　boat　crew　was　firing　at　something　beyond　our　boats。　At　that　time　there　were　shore　batteries…the　big；　ugly　guns　in　their　concrete　bunkers…near　the　yard　and　built　higher　up　on　Coquina；　their　yellow　tracks　streaked　across　our　heads　into　the　distance。〃
　　He　looked　from　Kip　to　Moore。　〃It　was　such　a　long　time　ago；　you　see；　and　the　cruelty　of　it　is　that　I　recall　every　detail　so　clearly；　so　terrible　and　perfect。　We　were　all　in　the　mire　of　a　nightmare；　jammed　together　in　skiffs　and　sailing　sloops。　There　were　many　hysterical　and　wild；　others　trying　to　keep　order　as　we　watched　our　island　burn。　Mon　Dieu；　there　can　be　no　worse　torture　than　that！　Coquina　was　a　mass　of　fire。　There　was　no　fleeing；　for　those　of　us　who　had　taken　to　the　sea　could　still　hear　our　brothers　and　sisters　screaming　on　shore。　The　heat　touched　our　faces；　we　saw　the　bodies　contorted　in　pain；　racing　into　the　surf　where　they　only　felt　a　worse　pain　as　the　salt　hit　their　raw　burns。　The　wailing；　the　terrible　wailing。。。　the　night　was　full　of　it。　I　can　never　forget　it　as　long　as　I　live。
　　〃And　through　the　thick　curtain　of　whirling　smoke　a　noise　reached　us；　more　terrible　even　than　that　of　human　agony：　It　was　a　heavy　pounding　that　made　the　ocean　tremble。　The　timbers　of　the　boats　shuddered　under　us。　We　thought　we　would　be　capsized；　and　perish。　We　waited；　and　then　out　of　the　smoke　came　a　thing　that　could　drive　a　man　mad；　haunt　his　sleep　until　he　despaired　of　ever　finding　rest　again。　One　of　the　men　aboard　my　skiff　had　a　pistol　and　in　his　rage　he　fired　at　the　thing；　but　there　was　no　stopping　nor　slowing　it。　The　sea　thundered　around　it。　Its　great　rolling　bow…wave　came　under　us；　throwing　our　boat　over；　we　clung　to　its　upturned　hull　like　rats。　The　monstrous　thing；　all　black　and　gleaming　like　a　huge；　hungry　predator；　passed　just　before　us。
　　〃And　that　was　when　I　saw　the　man。　He　stood　high　up　on　a　platform　of　some　sort。　He　stared　at　us　for　a　moment　and　then　he　disappeared。　The　boat…for　I　had　realized　it　was　such…passed　on　and　then　suddenly　dropped　away　like　a　stone　into　the　sea。　The　waves　rushed　across　it；　and　we　sat　stunned　in　the　midst　of　the　sea。　Still　we　could　hear　the　terrible　screams　of　the　dying　from　Coquina。　We　always　had　the　fear　that　the　monster　might　return。〃
　　Boniface　raised　his　cane　and　pointed　it　like　a　rapier。　〃And　that　was　the　thing　I　saw。　The　thing　of　iron　and　evil；　it　came　from　the　night　and　returned　into　the　night。〃
　　〃A　sea…to…land　shelling；〃　Moore　said　after　a　moment。　〃Then　it　was　a　German　submarine　after　the　island　boatyards。〃　The　thing　looked　wicked　enough；　like　some　sort　of　vengeful　iron　demon；　Moore　could　understand　why　the　islanders　had　feared　it。
　　〃To　us　it　was　a　thing　from　Hell；　crewed　by　faceless；　inhuman　creatures　of　another　world。　We　wanted　no　part　in　that　white　man's　war　and　yet　it　was　forced　upon　us。　We　were　not　to　be　spared。　The　boat　came　again；　and　brought　death　until　it　was　itself　destroyed。〃
　　〃How？〃　Kip　asked　him；　intrigued。　〃What　destroyed　it？〃
　　〃That　I　don't　know。　But　many　nights　I　stood　on　this　beach；　perhaps　in　this　exact　spot；　and　watched　the　fires　burning　out　at　sea；　the　strange　green　and　crimson　ets　streaking　the　black。　And　each　morning　the　debris　washed　in；　parts　of　ships　and　men。　Frozen　bodies　with　twisted；　terror…struck　faces；　sometimes　only　a　tide　of　blood　or　of　arms　and　legs。〃　He　drew　in　his　breath。　〃That。。。　is　the　Night　Boat；　risen　from　its　tomb　at　the　bottom　of　the　sea。〃
　　The　men　were　silent。　Kip　could　hear　the　buoys　clanging　out　past　the　reef；　and　their　sharp　metallic　sound　grated　on　his　nerves。　The　sea　washed　strands　of　clinging　weed　across　the　U…boat's　deck；　and　made　a　rhuthummmm　noise　along　the　iron。　〃There's　nothing　for　anyone　to　fear　anymore；〃　Kip　said。　〃It's　a　dead　hunk　of　metal　now。〃
　　Boniface　turned　slowly　to　face　the　constable。　〃Not　dead。　Only　waiting。　And　I　beg　you　as　I　have　never　begged　any　man　on　this　earth。　Return　it　to　the　Abyss。〃
　　〃For　God's　sake！〃　Kip　said；　irritated　by　the　man's　persistence　and　more　than　a　bit　uneasy　beneath　his　powerful　gaze。　〃You've　preached　spirits　and　voodoo　for　so　long　you're　seeing　jumbies　in　a　junkyard　relic！〃
　　The　reverend　said　nothing　for　a　long　while；　looking　from　one　man　to　the　other；　probing　their　belief　and　fear。　〃Dieu　vous　garde；〃　he　said　softly。　〃I　have　a　body　to　attend　to。〃　He　turned　from　them　and；　picking　his　way　with　the　tip　of　the　cane；　he　moved　away　up　the　beach。　He　stopped　once　more　on　higher　ground　to　stare　back　at　the　submarine；　and　then　he　disappeared　among　the　clapboard　houses　fringing　Front　Street。
　　Kip　saw　that　Moore　looked　concerned。　〃Don't　listen　to　him；〃　he　said。　〃Superstition's　bee　his　second　nature。　But　damn　it　all；　I　don't　see　how　that　bastard　cleared　the　reef　and　got　through　into　my　harbor！〃
　　The　trawlers　were　preparing　to　move　out　for　the　fishing　grounds　from　the　mercial　wharfs　across　the　beach。　Diesels　rumbled；　men　shouted　back　and　forth　from　boat　to　boat；　and　lines　were　cast　off。　There　would　barely　be　room　for　them　to　swing　past　the　obstruction　of　the　submarine　and　out　to　sea。　The　sun　was　rising　now；　a　hot　yellow　orb　in　a　sky　that　promised　to　be　a　clear　azure　blue。　A　few　moments　before；　the　hulk　had　indeed　looked　dark　and　spectral；　with　the　weeds　entwining　its　deck　and　railings。　Now；　in　the　clearer　light；　it　simply　appeared　to　be　a　battered；　aged　wreck。
　　〃Can　you　give　me　a　lift　back　up　to　my　office？〃　Kip　asked；　and　when　Moore　nodded　they　began　walking　toward　the　pickup　truck。　〃A　hell　of　a　mess；〃　Kip　muttered。　〃The　whole　island　probably　knows　about　this　by　now；　and　if　I　judge　Boniface　correctly　he'll　use　it　as　an　opportunity　to　strengthen　his　hold　on　these　people。　I've　got　to　do　something　about　that　boat；　David。　I　can't　let　it　rot　here；　but　for　the　life　of　me　I　don't。。。〃　He　stopped　suddenly；　his　eye　caught　by　the　sun　glinting　brightly　off　the　tin　roof　of　the　abandoned　naval　shelter　off　in　the　distance。　No；　that　would　be　one　hell　of　a　huge　risk。　Then　he　asked　himself：　more　risk　than　leaving　it　unattended　on　the　sandbar？
　　The　constable's　office；　a　small　stucco　building　painted　a　light　green；　was　on　the　village　square。　There　was　an　oval　park　of　palmettos　in　the　center　of　the　street；　and　the　weather…etched　granite　statue　of　a　black　man　hefting　a　harpoon　that　had　been　erected　by　the　British　as　a　peace　concession　to　the　Carib　Indian　tribe。　It　honored　one　of　the　Carib　chieftains…a　man　named　Cheyne…who　in　the　1600s　had　led　a　rag…tag　army　against　a　band　of　pirates　who　were　trying　to　seize　Coquina　as　a　fortress。　The　Caribs　had　been　here　at　least　a　hundred　years　before　the　first　British　settlers　had　arrived；　they　lived　off　the　sea　and　the　land；　keeping　to　themselves　unless　feeling　threatened；　and　then　their　wrath　could　be　awesome。　It　was　clear　that　the　Caribs　were　to　be　left　alone；　judging　from　the　number　of　British　settlers　who　were　laid　in　their　graves　in　those　early　years。　Now　they　were　mostly　quiet；　and　Moore　didn't　know　much　about　their　current　way　of　life。　Across　the　Square　were　brightly　painted　buildings：　Everybody's　Grocers　and　Cafe；　Langstree's　marine　supply　store；　an　open…air　market　where　the　inland　farmers　displayed　their　goods　on　Saturdays；　and　the　Coquina　Hardware　Store。　Dirt…track　streets　cut　back　through　the　jungle　to　more　houses。　Beyond　those；　the　foliage　grew　thick　and　wild。
　　Coquina　was　fifteen　miles　around；　housing　a　population　of　a　little　more　than　seven　hundred。　In　centuries　past　it　had　served　as　a　battleground　between　the　British　and　the　French；　the　island；　along　with　a　dozen　other　small　spits　of　sand　in　the　area；　had　been　possessed　first；　in　the　early　1500s；　by　the　Spanish；　who　had　left　it　pretty　much　alone；　then　a　hundred　years　later　by　the　British；　who'd　fought　the　Caribs　to　make　a　go　of　sugar　and　tobacco　plantations。　The　French