alistairmaclean.icestationzebra-第20部分

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e　pushed　himself　wearily　to　his　feet。　〃Can't　be　much　more　than　half　a　mile　to　go　now。　Let's　get　it　over　with。〃
　 In　the　backwash　of　light　from　my　flashlight　I　saw　Rawlings　and　Zabrinski　glance　at　each　other；　saw　them　shrug　their　shoulders　at　the　same　moment。　Then　they；　too；　were　on　their　feet　and　we　were　on　our　way　again。
　 Three　minutes　later　Zabrinski　broke　his　ankle。
　 It　happened　in　an　absurdly　simple　fashion；　but　for　all　its　simplicity　it　was　a　wonder　that　nothing　of　the　same　sort　had　happened　to　any　of　us　in　the　previous　three　hours。　After　starting　off　again；　instead　of　losing　our　bearing　by　working　to　the　south　or　north　until　we　had　rounded　the　end　of　the　ice　ridge　blocking　our　path；　we　elected　to　go　Over　it。　The　ridge　was　all　of　ten　feet　high　but　by　boosting　and　pulling　each　other　we　reached　the　top　without　much　difficulty。　I　felt　my　way　forward　cautiously；　using　the　ice　probe；　the　flashlight　was　useless　in　that　ice　storm；　and　my　goggles　pletely　opaque。　After　twenty　feet　of　crawling　across　the　gently　downward…sloping　surface；　I　reached　the　fax　side　of　the　ridge　and　stretched　down　with　the　probe。
　 〃Five　feet；〃　I　called　to　the　others　as　they　came　up。　〃It's　only　five　feet。〃　I　swung　over　the　edge；　dropped　down；　and　waited　for　the　others　to　follow。　Hansen　came　first；　then　Rawlings；　both　sliding　down　easily　beside　me。　What　happened　to　Zabrinski　was　impossible　to　see：　he　either　misjudged　his　distance　from　the　edge　or　a　sudden　easing　of　the　wind　made　him　lose　his　footing。　Whatever　the　cause；　I　heard　him　call　out；　the　words　whipped　away　and　lost　by　the　wind；　as　he　jumped　down　beside　us。　He　seemed　to　land　squarely　and　lightly　enough　on　his　feet；　then　cried　out　sharply　and　fell　heavily　to　the　ground。
　 I　turned　my　back　to　the　ice　storm；　raised　the　useless　snow　goggles；　and　pulled　out　my　flashlight。　Zabrinski　was　half　sitting；　half　lying　on　the　ice；　propped　up　on　his　right　elbow　and　cursing　steadily　and　fluently　and；　as　far　as　I　could　tell；　because　of　the　muffling　effect　of　his　snow　mask；　without　once　repeating　himself。　His　right　heel　was　jammed　in　a　fourinch　crack　in　the　ice；　one　of　the　thousands　of　such　fractures　and　fissures　that　criss…crossed　the　pressure　areas　of　the　pack；　his　right　leg　was　bent　over　at　an　angle　to　the　outside；　an　angle　normally　impossible　for　any　leg　to　assume。　I　didn't　need　to　have　a　medical　diploma　hung　around　my　neck　to　tell　that　the　ankle　was　gone：　either　that　or　the　lowermost　part　of　the　tibia；　for　the　ankle　was　so　heavily　encased　in　a　stout　boot　with　lace　binding　that　most　of　the　strain　must　have　fallen　on　the　shinbone。　I　hoped　it　wasn't　a　pound　fracture；　but　it　was　an　unreasonable　hope：　at　that　acute　angle　the　snapped　bone　could　hardly　have　failed　to　pierce　the　skin。　pound　or　not；　it　made　no　immediate　difference；　I'd　no　intention　of　examining　it。　A　few　minutes'　exposure　of　the　lower　part　of　his　leg　in　those　temperatures　was　as　good　a　way　as　any　of　ensuring　that　Zabrinski　went　through　the　rest　of　his　life　with　one　foot　missing。
　 We　lifted　his　massive　bulk；　eased　the　useless　foot　out　of　the　crack　in　the　ice；　and　lowered　him　gently　to　a　sitting　position。　I　unslung　the　medical　kit　from　my　back；　knelt　beside　him　and　asked：　〃Does　it　hurt　badly？〃
　 〃No；　it's　numb；　I　hardly　feel　a　thing。〃　He　swore　disgustedly。　〃What　a　crazy　thing　to　do。　A　little　crack　like　that。　How　stupid　can　a　man　get？〃
　 〃You　wouldn't　believe　me　if　I　told　you；〃　Rawlings　said　acidly。　He　shook　his　head。　〃I　prophesied　this；　I　prophesied　this。　I　said　it　would　end　up　with　me　carrying　this　gorilla　here。〃
　 I　laid　splints　to　the　injured　leg　and　taped　them　as　tightly　as　possible　over　the　boot　and　the　furs；　trying　not　to　think　of　the　depth　of　trouble　we　were　in　now。　Two　major　blows　in　one：　not　only　had　we　lost　the　indispensable　services　of　the　strongest　man　in　our　party；　we　now　had　an　extra　220　poundsat　leastof　weight；　of　deadweight；　to　carry　along　with　us。　Not　to　mention　his　forty…pound　pack。　Zabrinski　might　almost　have　read　my　thoughts。
　 〃You'll　have　to　leave　me　here；　Lieutenant；〃　he　said　to　Hansen。　His　teeth　were　rattling　with　shock　and　cold。　〃We　must　be　almost　there　now。　You　can　pick　me　up　on　the　way　back。〃
　 〃Don't　talk　rubbish；〃　Hansen　said　shortly。　〃You　know　damn　well　we'd　never　find　you　again。〃
　 〃Exactly；〃　Rawlings　said。　His　teeth　were　like　Zabrinski's；　stuttering　away　irregularly　like　an　asthmatic　machine　gun。　He　knelt　on　the　ice　to　support　the　injured　man's　bulk。　〃No　medals　for　morons。　It　says　so　in　the　ship's　articles。〃
　 〃But　you'll　never　get　to　Zebra；〃　Zabrinski　protested。　〃If　you　have　to　carry　me〃
　 〃You　heard　what　I　said；〃　Hansen　interrupted。　〃We're　not　leaving　you。〃
　 〃The　lieutenant　is　perfectly　correct；〃　Rawlings　agreed。　〃You　aren't　the　hero　type；　Zabrinski。　You　haven't　got　the　face　for　it；　for　one　thing。　Now　shut　up　while　I　get　some　of　this　stuff　off　my　back。〃
　 I　finished　tightening　the　splints　and　pulled　mittens　and　fur　gloves　back　on　my　silk…clad　but　already　frozen　hands。　We　divided　Zabrinski's　load　among　the　three　of　us；　pulled　goggles　and　snow　masks　back　into　position；　hoisted　Zabrinski　to　his　one　sound　leg；　turned　into　the　wind；　and　went　on　our　way　again。　It　would　be　truer　to　say　that　we　staggered　on　our　way　again。
　 But　now；　at　last　and　when　we　most　needed　it；　luck　was　with　us。　The　ice　cap　stretched　away　beneath　our　feet　as　level　and　smooth　as　the　surface　of　a　frozen　river。　No　ridges；　no　hummocks；　no　crevasses；　not　even　the　tiny　cracks　one　of　which　had　crippled　Zabrinski。　Just　billiard…flat　unbroken　ice　and　not　even　slippery；　for　its　surface　had　been　scoured　and　abraded　by　the　flying　ice　storm。
　 Each　of　us　took　turns　at　being　lead　man；　the　other　two　supporting　a　Zabrinski　who　hopped　along　in　unplaining　silence　on　one　foot。　After　maybe　three　hundred　yards　of　this　smooth　ice；　Hansen；　who　was　in　the　lead　at　the　moment；　stopped　so　suddenly　and　unexpectedly　that　we　bumped　into　him。
　 〃We're　there！〃　he　yelled　above　the　wind。　〃We've　made　it。　We're　there！　Can't　you　smell　it？〃
　 〃Smell　what？〃
　 〃Burnt　fuel　oil。　Burnt　nibber。　Don't　you　get　it？〃
　 I　pulled　down　my　snow　mask；　cupped　my　hands　to　my　face；　and　sniffed　cautiously。　One　sniff　was　enough。　I　hitched　up　my　mask　again；　pulled　Zabrinski's　arm　more　tightly　across　my　shoulder；　and　followed　Hansen。
　 The　smooth　ice　ended　in　another　few　feet。　The　ice　sloped　up　sharply　to　a　level　plateau；　and　it　took　the　three　of　us　all　of　what　pitifully　little　strength　remained　to　drag　Zabrinski　up　after　us。　The　acrid　smell　of　burning　seemed　to　grow　more　powerful　with　every　step　we　took。　I　moved　forward；　away　from　the　others；　my　back　to　the　storm；　goggles　down；　and　sweeping　the　ice　with　semicircular　movements　of　my　flashlight。　The　smell　was　strong　enough　now　to　make　my　nostrils　wrinkle　under　the　mask。　It　seemed　to　be　ing　from　directly　ahead。　I　turned　around　into　the　wind；　protectively　cupped　hand　over　my　eyes；　and；　as　I　did；　my　flashlight　struck　something　hard　and　solid　and　metallic。　I　lifted　my　flashlight　and　vaguely；　through　the　driving　ice；　I　could　just　make　out　the　ghostly　hooped…steel　skeleton；　ice…coated　on　the　windward　side；　fire…charred　on　the　leeward　side；　of　what　had　once　been　a　Nissen…shaped　hut。
　 We　had　found　Drift　Ice　Station　Zebra。
　 I　waited　for　the　others　to　e　up；　guided　them　past　the　gaunt　and　burnt…out　structure；　then　told　them　to　turn　backs　to　wind　and　lift　their　goggles。　For　maybe　ten　seconds　we　surveyed　the　ruin　in　the　beam　of　my　flashlight。　No　one　said　anything。　Then　we　turned　around　into　the　wind　again。
　 Drift　Station　Zebra　had　consisted　of　eight　separate　huts；　four　in　each　of　two　parallel　rows；　thirty　feet　separating　the　two　rows；　twenty　feet　between　each　two　huts　in　the　rows　this　to　minimize　the　hazard　of　fire　spreading　from　hut　to　hut。　But　the　hazard　hadn't　been　minimized　enough。　No　one　could　be　blamed　for　that。　No　one；　except　in　the　wildest　flights　of　nightmarish　imagination；　could　have　envisaged　what　must　indeed　have　happened：　exploding　tanks　and　thousands　of　gallons　of　blazing　oil　being　driven　through　the　night　by　a　galeforce　wind。　And；　by　a　double　inescapable　irony；　fire；　without　which　human　life　on　the　polar　ice　cap　cannot　survive；　is　there　the　most　dreaded　enemy　of　all：　for　although　the　entire　ice　cap　consists　of　water；　frozen　water；　there　is　nothing　that　can　melt　that　water　and　so　put　out　the　fire。　Except　fire　itself。　I　wondered　vaguely　what　had　happened　to　the　giant　chemical　fire　extinguishers　housed　in　every　hut。
　 Eight　huts；　four　in　each　row。　The　first　two　on　either　side　were　pletely　gutted。　No　trace　remained　9f　the　walls；　which　had　been　of　two　layers　of　weather…proofed　bonded　ply　that　had　enclosed　the　insulation　of　shredded　glass　fiber　and　kapok；　on　all　of　them　even　the　aluminum　sheeted　roofs　had　disappeared。　In　one　of　the　huts　we　could　see　charred　and　blackened　generator　machinery；　ice…coated　on　the　windward　side；　bent　and　twisted　and　melted　almost　out　of　recognition：　one　could　only　wonder　at　the　furnace　ferocity　of　the　heat　responsible。
　 The　fifth　hutthe　third　on　the　right…hand　sidewas　a　gutted　replica　of　the　other　four；　the　framing　even　more　savagely　twisted　by　the　heat。　We　were　just　turning　away　from　this；　supporting　Zabrinski　and　too　sick　at　heart　even　to　speak　to　each　other；　when　Rawlings　called　out　somet