dk.coldfire-第37部分

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　Her　stomach　began　to　grumble。　She　had　eaten　breakfast　at　the　airport　in　Dubuque；　surprised　that　her　appetite　had　not　been　suppressed　forever　by　the　macabre　images　burned　into　her　mind　at　the　crash　scene。　She　had　missed　lunch；　thanks　to　the　stakeout；　now　she　was　famished。　Life　goes　on　Fifteen　minutes　ahead　of　Holly's　bathroom　deadline；　Ironheart　returned。　He　had　showered　and　shaved。　He　was　dressed　in　a　blue　boatnec　shirt；　white　cotton　slacks；　and　white　canvas　Top…Siders。　
　She　was　flattered　by　his　desire　to　make　a　better　appearance。　
　〃Okay；〃　he　said；　〃what　do　you　want？〃　〃I　need　to　use　your　facilities　first。〃　
　A　long…suffering　look　lengthened　his　face。　〃Okay；　okay；　but　then　we　talk；　get　it　over　with；　and　you　go。〃　
　She　followed　him　into　the　family　room；　which　was　adjacent　to　an　open　breakfast　area；　which　was　adjacent　to　an　open　kitchen。　The　mismatched　furniture　appeared　to　have　been　purchased　on　the　cheap　at　a　warehouse　clearance　sale　immediately　after　he　had　graduated　from　college　and　taken　his　first　teaching　job。　It　was　clean　but　well　worn。　Hundreds　of　paperback　books　filled　free…standing　cases。　But　there　was　no　artwork　of　any　kind　on　the　walls；　and　no　decor　pieces　such　as　vases　or　bowls　or　sculptures　or　potted　plants　lent　warmth　to　the　room。　
　He　showed　her　the　powder　room　off　the　main　entrance　foyer。　No　wall　paper；　white　paint。　No　designer　soaps　shaped　like　rosebuds；　just　a　bar　of　Ivory。　No　colorful　or　embroidered　handtowels；　just　a　roll　of　Bounty　standing　on　the　counter。　
　As　she　closed　the　door；　she　looked　back　at　him　and　said；　〃Maybe　we　could　talk　over　an　early　supper。　I'm　starved。〃　
　When　she　finished　in　the　bathroom；　she　peeked　in　his　living　room。　
　It　was　decorated…to　use　the　word　as　loosely　as　the　language　police　would　allow　…in　a　style　best　described　as　Early　Garage　Sale；　though　it　was　even　more　Spartan　than　the　family　room。　His　house　was　surprisingly　modest　for　a　man　who　had　won　six　million　in　the　state　lottery；　but　his　furniture　made　the　house　seem　Rockefellerian　by　parison。　
　She　went　out　to　the　kitchen　and　found　him　waiting　at　the　round　breakfast　table。　
　〃I　thought　you'd　be　cooking　something；〃　she　said；　pulling　out　a　chair　and　sitting　opposite　him。　
　He　was　not　amused。　〃What　do　you　want？〃　〃Let　me　start　by　telling　you　what　I　don　't　want；〃　she　said。　〃I　don't　wan　to　write　about　you；　I've　given　up　reporting；　I've　had　it　with　journalism　Now；　you　believe　that　or　not；　but　it's　true。　The　good　work　you're　doing　can　only　be　hampered　if　you're　being　hounded　by　media　types；　and　lives　will　be　lost　that　you　might　otherwise　save。　I　see　that　now。〃　
　〃Good。〃　
　〃And　I　don't　want　to　blackmail　you。　Anyway；　judging　by　the　unconscionably　lavish　style　in　which　you　live；　I　doubt　you've　got　more　than　eighteen　bucks　left。〃　
　He　did　not　smile。　He　just　stared　at　her　with　those　gas　flame…blue　eyes。　
　She　said；　〃I　don't　want　to　inhibit　your　work　or　promise　it　in　any　way。　I　don't　want　to　venerate　you　as　the　Second　ing；　marry　you；　bear　your　children；　or　extract　from　you　the　meaning　of　life。　Anyway；　only　Elvis　Presley　knows　the　meaning　of　life；　and　he's　in　a　state　of　suspended　animation　in　an　alien　vault　in　a　cave　on　Mars。〃　
　His　face　remained　as　immobile　as　stone。　He　was　tough。　
　〃What　I　want；〃　Holly　said；　〃is　to　satisfy　my　curiosity；　learn　how　you　do　what　you　do；　and　why　you　do　it。〃　She　hesitated。　She　took　a　deep　breath。　
　Here　came　the　big　one：　〃And　I　want　to　be　part　of　it　all。〃　
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　She　spoke　fast；　running　sentences　together；　afraid　he　would　interrupt　her　before　she　got　it　all　out；　and　never　give　her　another　chance　to　explain　herself　〃I　want　to　work　with　you；　help　you；　contribute　to　your　mission；　or　whatever　you　call　it；　however　you　think　of　it；　I　want　to　save　people；　at　least　help　you　save　them。〃　
　〃There's　nothing　you　could　do。〃　
　〃There　must　be　something；〃　she　insisted。　
　〃You'd　only　be　in　the　way。〃　
　〃Listen；　I'm　intelligent〃　〃So　what？〃　〃…well…educated…〃　〃So　am　I。〃　
　〃…gutsy…〃　〃But　I　don't　need　you。〃　
　〃…petent；　efficient〃　〃Sorry。〃　
　〃Damn　it！〃　she　said；　more　frustrated　than　angry。　〃Let　me　be　your　secretary；　even　if　you　don't　need　one。　Let　me　be　your　girl　Friday；　your　good　right　hand…at　least　your　friend〃　He　seemed　unmoved　by　her　plea。　
　He　stared　at　her　for　so　long　that　she　became　unfortable；　but　she　would　not　look　away　from　him。　She　sensed　that　he　used　his　singularly　penetrating　gaze　as　an　instrument　of　control　and　intimidation；　but　she　was　not　easily　manipulated。　She　was　determined　not　to　let　him　shape　this　encounter　before　it　had　begun。　
　At　last　he　said；　〃So　you　want　to　be　my　Lois　Lane。〃　
　For　a　moment　she　had　no　idea　what　he　was　talking　about。　Then　she　remembered：　Metropolis；　the　Daily　Planet　Jimmy　Olsen；　Perry　White；　Lois　Lane；　Clark　Kent；　Superman。　
　Holly　knew　he　was　trying　to　irritate　her。　
　Making　her　angry　was　another　way　of　manipulating　her；　if　she　became　abrasive；　he　would　have　an　excuse　to　turn　her　away。　She　was　determined　to　remain　calm　and　reasonably　congenial　in　order　to　keep　the　door　open　between　them。　
　But　she　could　not　sit　still　and　control　her　temper　at　the　same　time。　She　needed　to　work　off　some　of　the　energy　of　anger　that　was　overcharging　her　batteries。　She　pushed　her　chair　back；　got　up；　and　paced　as　she　responded　to　him：　〃No；　that's　exactly　what　I　don　't　want　to　be。　I　don't　want　to　be　your　chronicler；　intrepid　girl　reporter。　I'm　sick　of　journalism。〃　Succinctly；　she　told　him　why。　〃I　don't　want　to　be　your　swooning　admirer；　either；　or　that　well…meaning　but　bumbling　gal　who　gets　herself　in　trouble　all　the　time　and　has　to　rely　on　you　to　save　her　from　the　evil　clutches　of　Lex　Luthor。　
　Something　amazing　is　happening　here；　and　I　want　to　be　part　of　it。　
　It's　also　dangerous；　yeah；　but　I　still　want　to　be　a　part　of　it；　because　what　you're　doing　is　so。　。　。　so　meaningful。　I　want　to　contribute　any　way　I　can；　do　something　more　worthwhile　with　my　life　than　I've　done　so　far。〃　
　〃Do…gooders　are　usually　so　full　of　themselves；　so　unconsciously　arrogant；　they　do　more　damage　than　good；〃　he　said。　
　〃I'm　not　a　do…gooder。　That's　not　how　I　see　myself　I'm　not　at　all　interested　in　being　praised　for　my　generosity　and　self　sacrifice。　I　don't　need　to　feel　morally　superior。　Just　useful。　〃　〃The　world　is　full　of　do…gooders；〃　he　said；　refusing　to　relent。　〃If　I　needed　an　assistant；　which　I　don't；　why　would　I　choose　you　over　all　the　other　do…gooders　out　there？〃　He　was　an　impossible　man。　She　wanted　to　smack　him。　
　Instead　she　kept　moving　back　and　forth　as　she　said；　〃Yesterday；　when　I　crawled　back　into　the　plane　for　that　little　boy；　for　Norby；　I　just。　。　。　
　well；　I　amazed　myself　I　didn't　know　I　had　anything　like　that　in　me。　I　wasn't　brave；　I　was　scared　to　death　the　whole　time；　but　I　got　him　out　of　there；　and　I　never　felt　better　about　myself〃　〃You　like　the　way　people　look　at　you　when　they　know　you're　a　hero；〃　he　said　flatly。　
　She　shook　her　head。　〃No；　that's　not　it。　Aside　from　one　rescue　worker　no　one　knew　I'd　pulled　Norby　out　of　there。　I　liked　the　way　I　looked　at　me　after　I'd　done　it；　that's　all。〃　
　〃So　you're　hooked　on　risk；　heroism；　you're　a　courage　junkie。〃　
　Now　she　wanted　to　smack　him　twice。　In　the　face。　Crack；　crack。　Hard　enough　to　set　his　eyes　spinning。　It　would　make　her　feel　so　good。　
　She　restrained　herself　〃Okay；　fine；　if　that's　the　way　you　want　to　see　it；　then　I'm　a　courage　junkie。〃　
　He　did　not　apologize。　He　just　stared　at　her。　
　She　said；　〃But　that's　better　than　inhaling　a　pound　of　cocaine　up　my　nose　every　day；　don't　you　think？〃　He　did　not　respond。　
　Getting　desperate　but　trying　not　to　show　it；　Holly　said；　〃When　it　was　all　over　yesterday；　after　I　handed　Norby　to　that　rescue　worker；　you　know　what　I　felt？　More　than　anything　else？　Not　elation　at　saving　him…that　too；　but　not　mainly　that。　And　not　pride　or　the　thrill　of　defeating　death　myself　Mostly　I　felt　rage　It　surprised　me；　even　scared　me。　I　was　so　furious　that　a　little　boy　almost　died；　that　his　uncle　had　died　beside　him；　that　he'd　been　trapped　under　those　seats　with　corpses；　that　all　of　his　innocence　had　been　blown　away　and　that　he　couldn't　ever　again　just　enjoy　life　the　way　a　kid　ought　to　be　able　to。　I　wanted　to　punch　somebody；　wanted　to　make　somebody　apologize　to　him　for　what　he'd　been　through。　But　fate　isn't　a　sleazeball　in　a　cheap　suit；　you　can't　put　the　arm　on　fate　and　make　it　say　it's　sorry；　all　you　can　do　is　stew　in　your　anger。〃　
　Her　voice　was　not　rising；　but　it　was　increasingly　intense。　She　paced　faster；　more　agitatedly。　She　was　getting　passionate　instead　of　angry；　which　was　even　more　certain　to　reveal　the　degree　of　her　desperation。　But　she　couldn't　stop　herself：　〃Just　stew　in　anger。　
　Unless　you're　Jim　Ironheart。　You　can　do　something　about　it；　make　a　difference　in　a　way　nobody　ever　made　a　difference　before。　
　And　now　that　I　know　about　you；　I　can't　just　get　on　with　my　life；　can't　just　shrug　my　shoulders　and　walk　away；　because　you've　given　me　a　chance　to　find　a　strength　in　myself　I　didn't　know　I　had；　you've　given　me　hope　when　I　didn't　even　realize　I　was　longing　for　it；　you've　shown　me　a　way　to　satisfy　a　need　that；　until　yesterday；　I　didn't　even　know　I　had；　a　need　to　fight　back；　to　spit　in　Death's　face。　Damn　it；　you　can't　just　close　the　door　now　and　let　me　standing　out　in　the　cold！〃　He　stared　at　her。　
　Congratulations；　Thorne；　she　told　herself　scornfully。　You　were　a　monument　to　posure　and　restraint；　a　towering　example　of　self　control。　
　He　just　stared　at　her。　
　She　had　met　his　cool　demeanor　with　heat；　had　answered　his　highly　effective　silences　with　an　ever　greater　cascade　of　words。　One　chance；　that　was　all　she'd　had；　and　she'd　blown　it。　
　Miserable；　suddenly　drained　of　energy　instead　of　overflowing　with　it；　she　sat　down　again。　She　propped　her　elbows　on　the　table　and　put　her　face　in　her　hands；　not　sure　if　she　was　going　to　cry　or　scream。　She　didn't　do　either。　
　She　just　sighed　wearily。　
　〃Want　a　beer？〃　he　asked。　
　〃God；　yes。〃　
　Like　a　brush　of　flame；　the　westering　sun　slanted　through　the　tilted　plantation　shutters　on　the　breakfast…nook　window；　slathering　bands　of　coppergold　fire　on　the　ceiling。　Holly　slumped　in　her　chair；　and　Jim　leaned　forward　in　his。　She　stared　at　him　while　he　stared　at　his　half　finished　bottle　of　Corona。　
　〃Like　I　told　you　on　the　plane；　I'm　not　a