p&c.icelimit-第6章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　As　he　stared　at　the　fragment　from　outer　space；　he　suddenly　knew　what　he　wanted　to　do　with　the　rest　of　his　life。　But　that　had　been　years　ago。　Now；　he　tried　to　think　as　little　about　those　idealistic　days　as　possible。　His　eyes　strayed　to　a　locked　briefcase　on　the　passenger　seat；　which　contained　Nestor　Masangkay's　battered　journal。　He　tried　to　think　as　little　as　possible　about　that；　too。
　A　light　ahead　turned　green；　and　he　made　a　turn　into　a　narrow　one…way　street。　This　was　the　meat…packing　district；　perched　at　the　uttermost　edge　of　the　West　Village。　Old　loading　docks　yawned　wide；　filled　with　burly　men　manhandling　carcasses　in　and　out　of　trucks。　Along　the　far　side　of　the　street；　as　if　to　take　advantage　of　the　proximity；　was　a　crowd　of　restaurants　with　names　like　The　Hog　Pit　and　Uncle　Billy's　Backyard。　It　was　the　antithesis　of　the　chrome…and…glass　Park　Avenue　headquarters　of　Lloyd　Holdings；　from　which　he　had　just　e。　Nice　place　for　a　corporate　presence；　McFarlane　thought；　if　you　deal　in　pork…belly　futures。　He　double…checked　the　scribbled　address　lying　on　his　dashboard。
　He　slowed；　then　guided　the　Land　Rover　to　a　stop　on　the　far　side　of　an　especially　decrepit　loading　dock。　Killing　the　engine；　he　stepped　into　the　meat…fragrant　humidity　and　looked　around。　Halfway　down　the　block　a　garbage　truck　idled；　grinding　busily　away　at　its　load。　Even　from　this　distance；　he　caught　a　whiff　of　the　green　juice　that　dribbled　off　its　rear　bumper。　It　was　a　stench　unique　to　New　York　City　garbage　trucks；　once　smelled；　never　forgotten。
　He　took　a　deep　breath。　The　meeting　hadn't　begun　yet；　and　already　he　felt　himself　tense；　the　defensiveness　rising。　He　wondered　how　much　Lloyd　had　told　Glinn　about　himself　and　Masangkay。　It　didn't　really　matter；　what　they　didn't　know　they'd　learn　soon　enough。　Gossip　moved　even　faster　than　the　impactors　he　hunted。
　He　pulled　a　heavy　portfolio　from　the　back　of　the　Land　Rover；　then　closed　and　locked　the　door。　Before　him　rose　the　grimy　brick　facade　of　a　fin　de　siecle　building；　a　massive　structure　taking　up　most　of　the　block。　His　eye　traveled　up　a　dozen　stories；　ing　to　rest　at　the　words　PRICE　&　PRICE　PORK　PACKING　INC。　The　paint　was　almost　effaced　by　time。　Although　the　windows　on　the　lower　floors　had　been　bricked　over；　he　could　see　fresh　glass　and　chrome　winking　on　the　upper　stories。
　The　only　entrance　seemed　to　be　a　brace　of　metal　loading　doors。　He　pressed　a　buzzer　at　their　side　and　waited。　After　a　few　seconds　there　came　a　faint　click　and　the　doors　parted；　moving　noiselessly　on　oiled　bearings。
　He　stepped　into　a　poorly　lit　corridor　that　ended　in　another　set　of　steel　doors；　much　newer；　flanked　with　security　keypads　and　a　retinal　scanning　unit。　As　he　approached；　one　of　the　doors　opened　and　a　small；　dark；　heavily　muscled　man　in　an　MIT　warm…up　suit　came　forward；　an　athletic　spring　to　his　step。　Tightly　curled　black　hair；　fringed　with　white　at　the　temples；　covered　his　head。　He　had　dark；　intelligent　eyes　and　an　easygoing　air　that　was　very　uncorporate。
　〃Dr。　McFarlane？〃　the　man　asked　in　a　friendly　growl；　extending　a　hairy　hand。　〃I'm　Manuel　Garza；　construction　engineer　for　EES。〃　His　grip　was　surprisingly　gentle。
　〃Is　this　your　corporate　headquarters？〃　McFarlane　asked　with　a　wry　smile。
　〃We　prefer　our　anonymity。〃
　〃Well；　at　least　you　don't　have　to　go　far　for　a　steak。〃
　Garza　laughed　gruffly。　〃Not　if　you　like　it　rare。〃
　McFarlane　followed　him　through　the　open　door。　He　found　himself　in　a　cavernous　room；　brilliantly　lit　with　halogen　lights。　Acres　of　steel　tables　stood　in　long；　neat　rows。　On　them　rested　numerous　tagged　objects　…　piles　of　sand；　rocks；　melted　jet　engines；　ragged　pieces　of　metal。　Technicians　in　lab　coats　moved　around。　One　passed　him；　cradling　a　piece　of　asphalt　in　white…gloved　hands　as　if　it　were　a　Ming　vase。
　Garza　followed　McFarlane's　gaze　around　the　room；　and　then　glanced　at　his　watch。　〃We've　got　a　few　minutes。　Care　for　a　tour？〃
　〃Why　not？　I　always　love　a　good　junkyard。〃
　Garza　threaded　his　way　among　the　tables；　nodding　to　various　technicians。　He　paused　at　an　unusually　long　table；　covered　with　twisted　black　lumps　of　rock。　〃Recognize　these？〃
　〃That's　pahoehoe。　There's　a　nice　example　of　aa。　Some　volcanic　bombs。　You　guys　building　a　volcano？〃
　〃No；〃　said　Garza。　〃Just　blew　one　apart。〃　He　nodded　to　a　scale　model　of　a　volcanic　island　at　the　far　end　of　the　table；　plete　with　a　city；　canyons；　forests；　and　mountains。　He　reached　beneath　the　lip　of　the　table　and　pressed　a　button。　There　was　a　brief　whirr；　a　groaning　noise；　and　the　volcano　began　to　belch　lava；　spilling　in　sinuous　flows　down　its　flanks　and　creeping　toward　the　scale　city。　〃The　lava　is　specially　formulated　methyl　cellulose。〃
　〃Beats　my　old　N…scale　railroad。〃
　〃A　Third　World　government　needed　our　assistance。　A　dormant　volcano　had　erupted　on　one　of　their　islands。　A　lake　of　lava　was　building　up　in　the　caldera　and　was　about　to　bust　out　and　head　straight　for　this　city　of　sixty　thousand。　Our　job　was　to　save　the　city。〃
　〃Funny；　I　didn't　read　anything　in　the　news　about　this。〃
　〃It　wasn't　funny　at　all。　The　government　wasn't　going　to　evacuate　the　city。　It's　a　minor　offshore　banking　haven。　Mostly　drug　money。〃
　〃Maybe　you　should　have　let　it　burn；　like　Sodom　and　Gomorrah。〃
　〃We're　an　engineering　firm；　not　God。　We　don't　concern　ourselves　with　the　moral　status　of　paying　clients。〃
　McFarlane　laughed；　feeling　himself　relax　a　little。　〃So　how'd　you　stop　it？〃
　〃We　blocked　those　two　valleys；　there；　with　landslides。　Then　we　punched　a　hole　in　the　volcano　with　high　explosives　and　blasted　an　overflow　channel　on　the　far　side。　We　used　a　significant　portion　of　the　world's　nonmilitary　supply　of　Semtex　in　the　process。　All　the　lava　went　into　the　sea；　creating　almost　a　thousand　acres　of　new　real　estate　for　our　client　in　the　process。　That　didn't　quite　pay　our　fee；　of　course。　But　it　helped。〃
　Garza　moved　on。　They　passed　a　series　of　tables　covered　with　bits　of　fuselage　and　burnt　electronics。　〃Jet　crash；〃　said　Garza；　〃terrorist　bomb。〃　He　dismissed　it　with　a　quick　wave　of　his　hand。
　Reaching　the　far　side　of　the　room；　Garza　opened　a　small　white　door　and　led　McFarlane　down　a　series　of　sterile　corridors。　McFarlane　could　hear　the　hush　of　air　scrubbers；　the　clatter　of　keys；　a　strange；　regular　thudding　sound　from　far　below　his　feet。
　Then　Garza　opened　another　door　and　McFarlane　stopped　short　in　surprise。　The　space　ahead　of　him　was　vast　at　least　six　stories　tall　and　two　hundred　feet　deep。　Around　the　edges　of　the　room　was　a　forest　of　high…tech　equipment：　banks　of　digital　cameras；　category…5　cabling；　huge　〃green　screens〃　for　visual　effects　backdrops。　Along　one　wall　sat　half　a　dozen　Lincoln　convertibles　of　early　sixties　vintage；　long　and　slabsided。　Inside　each　car　sat　four　carefully　dressed　dummies；　two　in　the　front　and　two　in　the　rear。
　The　center　of　the　enormous　space　was　taken　up　by　a　model　of　a　city　intersection；　plete　down　to　working　stoplights。　Building　facades　of　various　heights　rose　on　either　side。　A　groove　ran　down　the　asphalted　road；　and　a　pulley　system　within　it　was　fixed　to　the　front　bumper　of　yet　another　Lincoln；　its　four　dummies　in　careful　place。　An　undulating　greensward　of　sculpted　AstroTurf　lined　the　roadway。　The　roadway　ended　in　an　overpass；　and　there　stood　Eli　Glinn　himself；　bullhorn　in　one　hand。
　McFarlane　stepped　forward　in　Garza's　wake；　halting　at　last　on　the　pavement　in　the　artificial　shade　of　some　plastic　bushes。　Something　about　the　scene　looked　strangely　familiar。
　On　the　overpass；　Glinn　raised　the　bullhorn。　〃Thirty　seconds；〃　he　called　out。
　〃Syncing　to　digital　feed；〃　came　a　disembodied　voice。　〃Sound　off。〃
　There　was　a　flurry　of　responses。　〃Green　across　the　board；〃　the　voice　said。
　〃Everyone　clear；〃　said　Glinn。　〃Power　up　and　let's　go。〃　Activity　seemed　to　e　from　everywhere。　There　was　a　hum　and　the　pulley　system　moved　forward；　pulling　the　limo　along　the　direction　of　the　groove。　Technicians　stood　behind　the　digital　cameras；　recording　the　progress。
　There　was　the　crack　of　an　explosion　nearby；　then　two　more　in　quick　succession。　McFarlane　ducked　instinctively；　recognizing　the　sound　as　gunfire。　Nobody　else　seemed　alarmed；　and　he　looked　in　the　direction　of　the　noise。　It　seemed　to　have　e　from　some　bushes　to　his　right。　Peering　closely　into　the　foliage；　he　could　make　out　two　large　rifles；　mounted　on　steel　pedestals。　Their　stocks　had　been　sawn　off；　and　leads　ran　from　the　triggers。
　Suddenly；　he　knew　where　he　was。　〃Dealey　Plaza；〃　he　murmured。
　Garza　smiled。
　McFarlane　stepped　onto　the　AstroTurf　and　peered　closer　at　the　two　rifles。　Following　the　direction　of　their　barrels；　he　noticed　that　the　rear　right　dummy　was　leaning　to　one　side；　its　head　shattered。
　Glinn　approached　the　side　of　the　car；　inspected　the　dummies；　then　murmured　to　someone　beside　him；　pointing　out　bullet　trajectories。　As　he　stepped　away　and　came　toward　McFarlane；　the　technicians　crowded　forward；　taking　pictures　and　jotting　down　data。
　〃Wele　to　my　museum；　Dr。　McFarlane；〃　he　said；　shaking　his　hand。　〃I'll　thank　you　to　step　off　our　grassy　knoll；　however。　That　rifle　still　holds　several　live　rounds。〃　He　turned　toward　Garza。　〃It's　a　perfect　match。　We've　cracked　this　one。　No　need　for　additional　run…throughs。〃
　〃So　this　is　the　project　you're　just　wrapping　up？〃　McFarlane　asked。
　Glinn　nodded。　〃Some　new　evidence　turned　up　recently　that　needed　further　analysis。〃
　〃And　what　have　you　found？〃
　Glinn　gave　him　a　cool　glance。　〃Perhaps　you'll　read　about　it　in　the　New　York　Times　someday；　Dr。　McFarlane。　But　I　doubt　it。　For　now；　let　me　just　say　that　I　have　a　greater　respect　for　conspiracy　theorists　than　I　did　a　month　ago。〃
　〃Very　interesting。　This　must've　cost　a　fortune。　Who　paid　for　it？〃
　There　was　a　conspicuous　silence。
　〃What　does　this　have　to　do　with　engineering？〃　McFarlane　finally　asked。
　〃Everything。　EES　was　a　pioneer　in　the　science　of　failure　analysis；　and　half　our　work　is　still　in　that　area。　Understanding　how　things　fail　is　the　most　important　ponent　in　solving　engineering　problems。〃
　〃But　this。。。　？〃　McFarlane　jerked　his　hand　in　the　direction　of　the　re…created　plaza。
　Glinn　smiled　elusively。　〃Assassination　of　a　president　is　a　rather　major　failure；　don't　you　think？　Not　to　mention　the　botched　investigation　that　followed。　Besides；　our　work　in　analyzing　failures　such　as　this　helps　us　maintain　our　perfect　engineering　record。〃
　〃Perfect？〃
　〃That's　right。　EES　has　never　failed。　Never。　It　is　our　trademark。〃　He　gestured　to　Garza；　and　they　moved　back　toward　the　doorway。　〃It's　not　enough　to　figure　out　how　to　do　something。　You　must　also　analyze　every　possible　path　to　failure。　Only　then　can　you　be　certain　of　success。　That　is　why　we　have　never　failed。　We　do　not　sign　a　contract　until　we　know　we　can　succeed。　And　then　we　guarantee　success。　There　are　no　disclaimers　in　our　contracts。〃
　〃Is　that　why　you　haven't　signed　the　Lloyd　Museum　contract　yet？〃
　〃Yes。　And　it's　why　you're　here　today。〃　Glinn　removed　a　heavy；　beautifully　engraved　gold　watch　from　his　pocket；　checked　the　time；　and　slid　it　back。　Then　he　turned　the　door　handle　briskly　and　stepped　through。　〃e　on。　The　others　are　waiting。〃
　
　EES　Headquarters；
　1：00　P。M。
　
　A　SHORT　ASCENT　in　an　industrial　elevator；　a　mazelike　journey　through　white　hallways；　and　McFarlane　found　himself　ushered　into　a　conference　room。　Low…ceilinged　and　austerely