cc.fireice-第4部分

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　The　missing　stoker　announced　his　arrival　with　deadly　force。　Rifle　fire　cut　short　the　Cossacks'　mirth；　and　four　men　were　mowed　down　as　if　by　an　invisible　scythe。　A　round　caught　Yakelev　in　the　chest；　and　the　force　slammed　him　against　the　bulkhead。　He　refused　to　go　down　and　mustered　the　strength　to　push　the　captain　out　of　the　line　of　fire。　The　remaining　Cossack　dropped　to　his　belly　and　crawled　along　the　deck；　firing　as　he　went；　but　he　was　killed　before　he　gained　the　protection　of　an　air　vent。
　
　While　the　attacker　was　diverted；　Tovrov　and　the　major　made　their　escape；　but　after　a　few　steps；　the　major's　knees　buckled　and　his　great　body　dropped　to　the　deck；　his　tunic　soaked　in　blood。　He　gestured　toward　the　captain；　who　brought　his　ear　close　to　the　Cossack's　mouth。
　
　〃See　to　the　family；〃　he　said　in　a　wet；　guttural　voice。
　
　〃They　must　live。〃　His　hand　groped　for　Tovrov's　jacket。　〃Remember。　Without　a　tsar；　Russia　cannot　exist。〃　He　blinked　in　astonishment　that　he　should　be　in　such　a　position；　and　a　soggy　chuckle　escaped　his　frothy　lips。　〃Damn　this　ship。　give　me　a　horse　any　day。　。　。　。〃　The　life　went　out　of　his　fierce　eye；　his　chin　slumped　forward　and　his　fingers　went　limp。
　
　Just　then；　the　ship　was　rocked　by　a　tremendous　blast。
　
　Crouching　low；　Tovrov　ran　to　the　rail　and　saw　the　fishing　boat　a　hundred　yards　away。　A　bright　flash　from　the　muzzle　of　a　deck　gun；　and　a　second　shell　slammed　into　the　freighter。
　
　The　ship　rocked　violently。
　
　A　muffled　thud　came　from　below；　as　the　fuel　tanks　caught　fire；　and　burning　fuel　gushed　from　the　tanks　and　spread　in　flaming　sheets　across　the　surface　of　the　water。　The　second　stoker　decided　to　abandon　ship。　He　ran　across　the　deck；　threw　the　rifle　over　the　side；　then　he　climbed　onto　the　rail；　leaped　into　a　clear　section　of　water　and　stroked　for　the　fishing　boat。　He　underestimated　the　speed　of　the　spreading　fuel；　however。　Within　seconds；　it　caught　up　with　him；　and　his　screams　were　drowned　out　by　the　loud　crackle　of　flames。
　
　The　cannonade　had　dislodged　the　rest　of　the　crew　from　their　hiding　places。　Men　ran　in　desperation　toward　the　lifeboat　on　the　side　away　from　the　fire。　Tovrov　went　to　follow　them；　then　he　remembered　Yakelev's　dying　words。　Gasping　as　he　tried　to　pull　air　into　his　ravaged　lungs；　Tovrov　climbed　to　the　passenger　quarters　and　threw　the　door　open。
　
　A　pitiful　sight　greeted　his　eyes。　Four　girls　in　their　teens　cowered　against　the　wall；　along　with　the　cook。　Standing　protectively　in　front　of　them　was　a　middle…aged　woman　with　sad　blue…gray　eyes。　She　had　a　long　thin　nose；　slightly　aquiline；　with　a　firm　but　delicate　chin。　Her　lips　were　closely　pressed　together　in　determination。　They　could　have　been　any　group　of　refugees　huddling　in　terror；　but　Tovrov　knew　they　weren't。　He　fumbled　as　he　tried　to　decide　on　the　right　form　of　address。
　
　〃Madame；〃　he　said　finally。　〃You　and　the　children　must　e　to　the　lifeboat。〃
　〃Who　are　you？〃　the　woman　said；　with　the　same　German　accent　the　captain　had　heard　earlier。
　
　〃Captain　Tovrov。　I　am　master　of　this　vessel。〃
　〃Tell　me　what　has　happened。　What　is　all　that　noise？〃
　〃Your　guards　are　all　dead。　The　ship　is　under　attack。　We　must　abandon　it。〃
　
　She　glanced　at　the　girls　and　seemed　to　gain　renewed　courage。　〃Captain　Tovrov；　if　you　guide　me　and　my　family　to　safety；　great　rewards　await　you。〃
　〃I　will　do　my　best；　Madame。
　
　She　nodded。　〃Go；　and　we　will　follow。〃
　
　Tovrov　checked　to　see　if　the　way　was　clear；　then　held　the　door　open　for　the　family　and　led　the　way　across　the　deck　away　from　the　fire。　The　Star　tilted　at　a　pronounced　angle　and　they　had　to　climb　up　a　slanting　slippery　metal　surface。　They　fell；　helped　one　another　up　and　pushed　on。
　
　The　crew　was　piling　into　the　lifeboat；　struggling　to　work　the　davits。　Taking　control；　the　captain　ordered　the　men　to　help　the　family。　When　everyone　was　in　the　boat；　he　told　the　crewmen　to　look　smart　and　lower　the　boat。　He　was　worried　that　the　ship　was　at　such　an　angle　that　the　davits　would　not　work；　but　the　boat　began　to　descend；　although　it　bumped　against　the　slanting　hull。
　
　The　lifeboat　was　a　few　yards　above　the　water　when　one　of　the　men　shouted。　The　fishing　boat　had　e　around　from　the　other　side　and　the　deck　gun　was　leveled　directly　at　the　lifeboat。　The　gun　fired　and　the　shell　smashed　through　one　end　of　the　boat；　and　then　the　air　was　filled　with　flying　splinters　of　wood；　hot　steel　and　body　parts。
　
　Tovrov　had　stretched　his　arm　around　the　girl　nearest　to　him。　He　still　had　his　arm　around　her　when　he　came　to　in　the　freezing　water；　calling　out　the　name　of　his　long…lost　daughter。　Spotting　a　wooden　hatch　cover　floating　nearby；　and　moving　slowly　so　as　not　to　alert　the　attackers；　he　swam　toward　the　debris；　hauling　the　semiconscious　girl　behind　him。
　
　He　helped　her　climb　aboard　the　precarious　raft；　gave　it　a　shove；　and　the　cover　and　its　cargo　drifted　away　from　the　light　of　the　dying　ship　and　merged　with　the　darkness。　Then；　frozen　and　exhausted；　with　nothing　to　keep　him　afloat；　Tovrov　slipped　beneath　the　embracing　waters；　taking　with　him　his　dream　of　a　cottage　by　the　sea。
　
　…1…
　OFF　THE　MAINE　COAST；　THE　PRESENT
　
　LEROY　JENKINS　WAS　hauling　in　a　barnacle…　encrusted　lobster　trap　aboard　his　boat；　The　Kestrel；　when　he　looked　up　and　saw　the　giant　ship　on　the　horizon。　He　gingerly　extracted　a　fat　pair　of　angry　crustaceans　from　the　trap；　pegged　the　claws　and　tossed　the　lobsters　into　a　holding　tank；　then　he　rebaited　the　trap　with　a　fish　head；　pushed　the　wire　cage　over　the　side　and　went　into　the　pilothouse　for　his　binoculars。　He　peered　through　the　lenses　and　silently　mouthed　the　word　〃Wow！〃
　
　The　ship　was　huge。　Jenkins　examined　the　vessel　from　stem　to　stem　with　an　expert　eye。　Before　retiring　to　take　up　lobster…fishing；　he　had　taught　oceanography　for　years　at　the　University　of　Maine；　and　he　had　spent　many　summer　breaks　on　survey　ships　…　but　this　vessel　was　like　nothing　he　had　ever　seen。　He　estimated　its　length　at　about　six　hundred　feet。　Derricks　and　cranes　sprouted　from　its　deck。　Jenkins　guessed　it　was　some　sort　of　ocean　mining　or　exploration　vessel。　He　watched　until　the　ship　vanished　from　sight；　then　went　back　to　pull　the　rest　of　the　string　of　pots。
　
　Jenkins　was　a　tall；　rangy　man　in　his　sixties；　whose　rugged　features　mirrored　the　rockbound　coast　of　his　native　Maine。　A　smile　crossed　his　deeply　tanned　face　as　he　hauled　in　the　last　trap。　It　had　been　an　exceptionally　good　day。　He　had　found　the　honey　hole　by　accident　a　couple　of　months　earlier。　The　spot　produced　an　endless　supply　of　lobsters；　and　he　kept　ing　back　even　though　he　had　to　go　farther　from　land　than　normal。　Fortunately；　his　thirty…six…foot　wooden　boat　was　seaworthy　even　with　a　full　load。　Setting　a　course　for　land；　he　put　the　boat　on　autopilot　and　went　below　to　reward　himself　with　what　they　used　to　call　a　Dagwood　sandwich　when　he　was　a　kid。　He　had　just　layered　in　another　slice　of　baloney　on　top　of　the　pile　of　ham；　cheese　and　salami　when　he　heard　a　muffled〃　Boom！〃　It　sounded　like　a　thunderclap；　but　it　seemed　to　e　from　below。
　
　The　boat　shuddered　so　violently　the　jars　of　mustard　and　mayonnaise　rolled　off　the　counter。　Jenkins　tossed　his　knife　in　the　sink　and　sprang　up　to　the　deck。　He　wondered　if　the　propeller　had　broken　off　or　if　he　had　hit　a　floating　log；　but　nothing　seemed　amiss。　The　sea　was　calm　and　almost　flat。　Earlier；　the　blue　surface　had　reminded　him　of　a　Rothko　canvas。
　
　The　boat　had　stopped　vibrating；　and　he　took　a　wondering　look　around；　then；　shrugging；　went　below。　He　finished　making　his　sandwich；　cleaned　up　and　went　out　on　the　deck　to　eat。　Noticing　a　couple　of　lobster　traps　that　had　shifted；　he　secured　them　with　a　line；　then　as　he　stepped　back　into　the　wheelhouse；　he　experienced　a　sudden　unpleasant　stomach…sinking　sensation；　as　if　someone　had　pushed　the　Up　button　in　a　fast　elevator。　He　grabbed　onto　the　mechanical　hauler　to　keep　his　footing。　The　boat　plunged；　then　levitated　again；　higher　this　time；　plummeted　once　more　and　repeated　the　cycle　a　third　time　before　sinking　back　into　the　sea；　where　it　rocked　violently　from　side　to　side。
　
　After　a　few　minutes；　the　motion　stopped　and　the　boat　stabilized；　and　Jenkins　saw　a　flickering　movement　in　the　distance。　Retrieving　his　binoculars　from　the　wheelhouse；　he　swept　the　sea；　and　as　he　adjusted　the　focus　ring；　he　saw　three　dark　furrows　extending　from　north　to　south。　The　ranks　of　waves　were　moving　in　the　direction　of　the　coast。　A　long…dormant　alarm　bell　clanged　in　his　head。　It　can't　be。　His　mind　raced　back　to　that　July　day　in　1998　off　the　coast　of　Papua　New　Guinea。　He　had　been　on　a　ship；　making　a　survey；　when　there　had　been　a　mysterious　explosion　and　the　seismic　instruments　had　gone　crazy；　indicating　a　disturbance　on　the　seafloor。　Recognizing　the　symptoms　of　a　tsunami；　the　scientists　aboard　the　ship　had　tried　to　warn　the　coast；　but　many　of　the　villages　had　no　munication。　The　huge　waves　had　flattened　the　villages　like　a　giant　steamroller。　The　destruction　was　horrifying。　Jenkins　never　forgot　the　sight　of　bodies　impaled　on　mangrove　branches；　of　crocodiles　preying　on　the　dead。
　
　The　radio　crackled　with　a　chorus　of　hard…edged　Maine　accents　as　fishermen　set　the　airways　abuzz。　〃Whoa！〃　said　a　voice　Jenkins　recognized　as　that　of　his　neighbor；　Elwood　Smalley。　〃Hear　that　big　boomer？〃
　〃Sounded　like　a　jet　fighter；　only　underwater；〃　another　fisherman　said。
　
　〃Anyone　else　feel　those　big　seas？〃　said　a　third　man。
　
　〃Yup；〃　replied　a　laconic　veteran　lobsterman　named　Homer　Gudgeon。　〃Thought　for　a　time　there　I　was　on　a　roller　coaster！〃
　
　Jenkins　barely　heard　the　other　voices　chiming　in。　He　dug　a　pocket　calculator　out　of　a　drawer；　estimated　the　time　between　the　waves　and　their　height；　did　some　quick　calculations　and　glanced　with　disbelief　at　the　numbers。　Then　he　picked　up　the　cell　phone　he　used　when　he　didn't　want　personal　messages　to　go　over　the　marine　channel　and　punched　out　a　number。
　
　The　gravelly　voice　of　Charlie　Howes；　Rocky　Cove's　police　chief；　came　on　the　phone。
　
　〃Charlie；　thank　God　I　got　you！〃
　〃In　my　cruiser　on　my　way　to　the　station；　Roy。　You　calling　to　crow　about　whippin'　me　at　chess　last　night？〃
　〃Another　time；〃　Jenkins　said。　〃I'm　east　of　Rocky　Point。　Look；　Charlie；　we　don't　have　much　time。　There's　a　big　wave　heading