alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第21章

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　〃You'll　be　all　right　alone？〃
　
　〃I　have　no　worries；〃　he　said　soberly。　〃Look；　sir；　can't　I　e　too？〃
　
　〃Stay　here　and　stay　healthy；〃　I　advised。　〃Thanks；　Joss；　but　you　know　someone　must　remain　behind。　I'll　call　you　up　on　the　usual　schedules。　You　might　get　a　kick　out　of　the　RCA　yet。　Miracles　still　happen。〃
　
　〃Not　this　time；　they　won't。〃　He　turned　away　abruptly　and　went　below。　Jackstraw　moved　across　to　the　tractor…we　didn't　say　another　word　to　each　other；　we　didn't　have　to…and　I　followed　Joss　down　to　the　cabin。　No　one　had　moved　an　inch；　as　far　as　I　could　see；　but　they　all　looked　up　as　I　came　in。
　
　〃All　right；〃　I　said　abruptly。　〃Get　your　stuff　together　and　pile　on　every　last　stitch　of　clothes　you　can。　We're　leaving　now。〃
　
　We　left；　in　fact；　just　over　an　hour　later。　The　Citroen　had　been　lying　unused　for　the　better　pan　of　a　fortnight；　and　we　had　the　devil's　own　job　getting　it　to　start。　But　start　it　eventually　did；　with　a　roar　and　a　thunderous　clatter　that　had　everybody　jumping　in　startlement　then　looking　at　it　in　dismay。　I　knew　the　thoughts　in　their　minds；　that　they'd　have　to　live　with　this　cacophony；　this　bedlam　of　sound　assaulting　their　shrinking　eardrums　for　no　one　knew　how　many　days　to　e；　but　I　wasted　little　sympathy　on　them：　at　least　they　would　have　the　protection　of　the　wooden　body　while　I　would　be　sitting　practically　on　top　of　the　engine。
　
　We　said　our　goodbyes　to　Joss。　He　shook　hands　with　Jackstraw　and　myself；　with　Margaret　Ross　and　Marie　LeGarde；　and；　pointedly；　with　no　one　else。　We　left　him　standing　there　by　the　hatchway；　a　lonely　figure　outlined　against　the　pale　light　of　the　steadily　climbing　moon；　and　headed　west　by　south　for　Uplavnik；　three　hundred　long　and　frozen　miles　away。　I　wondered；　as　I　knew　Joss　was　wondering；　whether　we　would　ever　see　each　other　again。
　
　I　wondered；　too；　what　right　I　had　in　exposing　Jackstraw　to　the　dangers　which　must　lie　ahead。　He　was　sitting　beside　me　as　I　drove；　but　as　I　looked　at　him　covertly　in　the　moonlight；　at　that　strong　lean　face　that；　but　for　the　rather　broad　cheekbones；　might　have　been　that　of　any　Scandinavian　sea…rover；　I　knew　I　was　wasting　my　time　wondering。　Although　nominally　under　my　mand；　he　had　only　been　lent　me；　as　other　Greenlanders　had　been　lent　as　an　act　of　courtesy　by　the　Danish　Government　to　several　IGY　stations；　as　a　scientific　officer…he　had　a　geology　degree　from　the　University　of　Copenhagen　and　had　forgotten　more　about　the　ice…cap　than　I　would　ever　know…and　in　times　of　emergency；　especially　where　his　own　pride；　and　he　had　plenty　of　that；　was　concerned　would　be　extremely　liable　to　do　what　he　thought　best；　regardless　of　what　I　thought　or　said。　I　knew　he　wouldn't　have　remained　behind　even　if　I　had　ordered　him　to…　and；　if　I　were　honest　with　myself；　I　was　only　too　damned　glad　to　have　him　along；　as　a　friend；　as　an　ally；　and　as　insurance　policy　against　the　disaster　that　can　so　easily　overtake　the　careless　or　the　inexperienced　on　the　ice…cap。　But　even　so；　even　though　I　quieted　my　conscience　as　best　I　could；　it　was　difficult　to　push　from　my　mind　the　picture　of　his　dark　vivacious　young　schoolteacher　wife　and　little　daughter；　the　red　and　white　brick　house　in　which　I'd　lived　for　two　weeks　as　a　guest　in　the　summer。　What　Jackstraw　thought　was　impossible　to　say。　He　sat　immobile　as　if　carved　from　stone；　only　his　eyes　alive；　constantly　moving；　constantly　shifting；　as　he　probed　for　sudden　dips　in　the　ice…cap；　for　differences　in　the　structure　of　the　snow；　for　anything　that　might　spell　trouble。　It　was　purely　automatic；　purely　instinctive：　the　crevasse　country　lay；　as　yet；　two　hundred　and　fifty　miles　away；　where　the　ice…cap　started　to　slope　sharply　to　the　sea；　and　Jackstraw　himself　maintained　that　Balto；　his　big　lead　dog；　had　a　surer　instinct　for　crevasses　than　any　human　alive。
　
　The　temperature　was　dropping　down　into　the　minus　thirties；　but　it　was　a　perfect　night　for　arctic　travel…a　moonlit；　windless　night　under　a　still　and　starry　sky。　Visibility　was　phenomenal；　the　ice…cap　was　smooth　and　flat；　the　engine　ran　sweetly　with　never　a　falter：　had　it　not　been　for　the　cold；　the　incessant　roar　and　body…numbing　vibration　of　the　big　engine；　I　think　I　would　almost　have　enjoyed　it。
　
　With　the　wide　tractor　body　blocking　off　the　view　behind；　it　was　impossible　for　me　to　see　what　was　happening　there：　but　every　ten　minutes　or　so　Jackstraw　would　jump　off　and　stand　by　the　side　of　the　trail。　Behind　the　tractor　body　and　its　shivering　occupants　…because　of　the　tractor　fuel　tank　beneath　and　the　spare　fuel　drums　astern　the　stove　was　never　lit　while　we　were　in　motion…came　the　sledge　with　all　our　stores：　120　gallons　of　fuel；　provisions；　bedding　and　sleeping…bags；　tents；　ropes；　axes；　shovels；　trail　flags；　cooking　utensils；　seal　meat　for　the　dogs；　four　wooden　bridging　battens；　canvas　sheets；　blow…lamps；　lantern；　medical　equipment；　radiosonde　balloons；　magnesium　flares　and　a　score　of　minor　items。　I　had　hesitated　over　including　the　radio　sondes；　especially　the　relatively　heavy　hydrogen　cylinders　for　these：　but　they　were　ready　crated　with　tents；　ropes；　axes　and　shovels　and…this　was　the　deciding　factor…had　saved　lives　on　at　least　one　occasion　when　a　trail　party；　lost　on　the　plateau　with　defective　passes；　had　saved　themselves　by　releasing　several　balloons　in　the　brief　daylight　hours　thereby　enabling　base　to　see　them　and　send　accurate　radio　bearings。
　
　Behind　the　heavy　transport　sled　was　towed　the　empty　dog…sled；　with　the　dogs　on　loose　traces　running　astern　of　it；　all　except　Balto　who　always　ran　free；　coursing　tirelessly　backwards　and　forwards　all　night　long；　one　moment　far　ahead　of　us；　the　next　ranging　out　to　one　side；　the　next　dropping　astern；　like　some　destroyer　circling　a　straggling　convoy　by　night。　When　the　last　of　the　dogs　had　passed　by　him；　Jackstraw　would　run　forward　to　overtake　the　tractor　and　jump　in　alongside　me　once　more。　He　was　as　tireless；　as　immune　to　fatigue；　as　Balto　himself。
　
　The　first　twenty　miles　were　easy。　On　the　way　up　from　the　coast；　over　four　months　previously；　we　had　planted　big　marker　flags　at　intervals　of　half　a　mile。　On　a　night　such　as　this；　with　the　moonlight　flooding　the　ice…cap；　these　trail　flags；　a　bright　luminous　orange　in　colour　and　mounted　on　aluminium　poles　stuck　in　snow　beacons；　were　visible　at　a　great　distance；　with　never　less　than　two　and　sometimes　three　in　sight　at　the　same　time；　the　long　glistening　frost　feathers　stretching　out　from　the　poles　sometimes　twice　the　length　of　the　flags　themselves。　We　counted　twenty…eight　of　these　flags　altogether…about　a　dozen　were　missing…then；　after　a　sudden　dip　in　the　land；　pletely　lost　them：　whether　they　had　blown　away　or　just　drifted　under　it　was　impossible　to　say。
　
　〃Well；　there　it　is；　Jackstraw；〃　I　said　resignedly。　〃This　is　where　one　of　us　starts　getting　cold。　Really　cold。〃
　
　〃We've　been　cold　before；　Dr　Mason。　Me　first。〃　He　slid　the　magnetic　pass　off　its　brackets；　started　to　unreel　a　cable　from　a　spool　under　the　dashboard；　then　jumped　out；　still　unwinding　the　cable；　while　I　followed　to　help。　Despite　the　fact　that　the　magnetic　north　pole　is　nowhere　near　the　north　pole…at　that　time　it　was　almost　a　thousand　miles　south　of　it　and　lay　more　to　the　west　than　north　of　us…a　magnetic　pass；　when　proper　variation　allowances　are　made；　is　still　useful　in　high　latitudes：　but　because　of　the　counter…acting　magnetic　effects　of　a　large　mass　of　metal；　it　was　quite　useless　when　mounted　on　the　tractor　itself。　Our　plan；　therefore；　was　that　someone　should　He　with　the　pass　on　the　dog…sled；　fifty　feet　behind　the　tractor；　and；　by　means　of　a　switch　which　operated　red　and　green　lights　in　the　tractor　dashboard；　guide　the　driver　to　left　or　right。　It　wasn't　our　original　idea；　it　wasn't　even　a　recent　idea：　it　had　been　used　in　the　Antarctic　a　quarter　century　previously　but；　as　far　as　I　knew；　had　not　been　improved　upon　yet。
　
　With　Jackstraw　established　on　the　sledge；　I　walked　back　to　the　tractor　and　pushed　aside　the　canvas　screen　at　the　back　of　the　wooden　body。　What　with　the　faces　of　the　passengers；　drawn　and　pinched　and　weirdly　pale　in　the　light　of　the　tiny　overhead　bulb；　the　constant　shivering；　the　chattering　of　teeth　and　the　frozen　breath　drifting　upwards　to　condense　and　freeze　on　the　wooden　roof；　it　was　a　picture　of　utter　and　abject　misery：　but　I　was　in　no　mood　to　be　moved　at　that　moment。
　
　〃Sorry　for　the　delay；〃　I　said。　〃Just　off　again　now。　But　I　want　one　of　you　for　a　lookout。〃
　
　Both　Zagero　and　Corazzini　volunteered　almost　in　the　same　breath；　but　I　shook　my　head。
　
　〃You　two　get　what　sleep　or　rest　you　can…I'm　liable　to　need　you　very　much　later　on。　Perhaps　you；　Mr　Mahler？〃
　
　He　looked　pale　and　ill；　but　he　nodded　silently；　and　Zagero　said　in　a　quiet　voice：　〃Corazzini　and　myself　too　high　up　on　the　list　of　suspects；　huh？〃
　
　〃I　wouldn't　put　either　of　you　at　the　very　foot；〃　I　said　shortly。　I　waited　till　Mahler　had　climbed　down　then　dropped　the　canvas　and　walked　round　to　the　driver's　seat。
　
　Theodore　Mahler；　strangely　enough；　proved　only　too　anxious　to　talk…and　keep　on　talking。　It　was　so　pletely　out　of　keeping　with　the　idea　I　had　formed　of　his　character　that　I　was　more　than　surprised。　Loneliness；　perhaps；　I　thought；　or　trying　to　forget　the　situation；　or　trying　to　divert　my　thoughts　and　suspicions：　how　wrong　I　was　on　all　three　counts　I　wasn't　to　find　out　until　later。
　
　〃Well；　Mr　Mahler；　it　looks　as　if　the　itinerary　of　your　European　trip　is　going　to　be　upset　a　bit。〃　I　had　almost　to　shout　to　make　my　words　heard　above　the　roar　of　the　tractor。
　
　〃Not　Europe；　Dr　Mason。〃　I　could　hear　the　machine…gun…like　chatter　of　his　teeth。　〃Israel。〃
　
　〃You　live　there？〃
　
　〃Never　been　there　in　my　life。1　There　was　a　pause；　and　when　his　voice　came　again　it　was　all　but　drowned　in　the　sound　of　the　engine。　I　thought　I　caught　the　words　'My　home'。
　
　〃You…you're　going　to　start　a　new　life　there；　Mr　Mahler？〃
　
　Tm　sixty…nine…tomorrow；〃　he　answered　obliquely。　〃A　new　life？　Let's　say；　rather；　that　I'm　going　to　end　an　old　one。〃
　
　〃And　you're　going　to　live　there；　make　your　home　there…after　sixty…nine　years　in　another　country？〃
　
　〃Millions　of　us　Jews　have　done　just　that；　in　the　past　ten　years。　Not　that　I've　lived　in　America　all　my　life。　。　。　。　〃
　
　And　then　he　told　me　his　story…a　story　of　refugee　oppression　that　I'd　heard　a　hundred　times；　with　a　hundred　variations。　He　was　a　Russian　Jew；　he　said；　one　of　the　millions　of　the　largest　Jewry　in　the　world　that　had　been　'frozen'　for　over　a　century　in　the　notorious　Pale　of　Settlement；　and　in　1905　had　been　forced　to　flee　with　his　father…leaving　mother　and　two　brothers　behind…to　escape　the　ruthless　massacres　carried　out　by　the　'Black　Hundreds'　at　the　behest　of　the　last　of　the　Romanoff　Tzars　who　was　seeking　scapegoats　for　his　crushing　defeat　by　the　Japanese。　His　mother；　he　learned　later；　had　just　disappeared；　while　his　two　brothers　had　survived　only　to　die　in　agony　long　years　afterwards；　one　in　the　rising　in　the　Bialystok　ghetto；　the　other　in　the　Treblinka　gas　chambers。　He　himself　had　found　work　in　the　clothing　industry　in　New　York；　studied　in　night　school；　worked　for　an　oil　pany；　married　and　with　the　death　of　his　wife　that　spring　had　set　about　fulfilling　the　agelong　ambition　of　his　race；　the　return　to　their　holy　land。
　
　It　was　a　touching　story；　pathetic