dk.solesurvivor-第44部分

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otograph；　but　also　by　the　thousands　of　microscopic　pits　in　the　film　surface　that　were　invisible　to　the　unassisted　eye；　and　by　the　feel　of　the　dyes　and　fixatives　and　other　chemicals　of　which　the　graveyard　image　was　posed。
　　Then　to　his　touch；　although　not　to　his　eye；　the　image　on　the　Polaroid　acquired　depth；　as　if　it　were　not　merely　a　two…dimensional　photograph　but　a　window　with　a　view　of　the　grave；　a　window　through　which　he　was　able　to　reach。　He　felt　warm　summer　sun　on　his　fingers；　felt　granite　and　bronze　and　a　prickle　of　grass。
　　Weirder　still：　Now　he　felt　a　colour；　as　if　wires　had　crossed　in　his　brain；　jumbling　his　senses；　and　he　said；　'Blue；'　and　immediately　he　felt　a　dazzling　burst　of　light；　and　as　if　from　a　distance；　he　heard　himself　say；　'Bright。'
　　The　feelings　of　blueness　and　light　quickly　became　actual　visual　experiences：　The　banquet　room　began　to　fade　into　a　bright　blue　haze。
　　Gasping；　Joe　dropped　the　photograph　as　if　it　had　e　alive　in　his　hand。
　　The　blue　brightness　snapped　to　a　small　point　in　the　centre　of　his　field　of　vision；　like　the　picture　on　a　television　screen　when　the　Off　switch　is　clicked。　This　point　shrank　until　the　final　pixel　of　light　hung　starlike　for　an　instant　but　then　silently　imploded　and　was　gone。
　　Rose　Tucker　leaned　across　the　table　toward　him。
　　Joe　peered　into　her　manding　eyes…and　perceived　something　different　from　what　he　had　seen　before。　The　sorrow　and　the　pity；　yes。　They　remained。　The　passion　and　the　intelligence　were　still　there；　in　as　full　measure　as　ever。　But　now　he　saw…or　thought　he　saw…some　part　of　her　that　rode　a　mad　horse　of　obsession　at　a　gallop　toward　a　cliff　over　which　she　wanted　him　to　follow。
　　As　though　reading　his　thoughts；　she　said；　'Joe；　what　you're　afraid　of　has　nothing　to　do　with　me。　What　you're　truly　afraid　of　is　opening　your　mind　to　something　you've　spent　your　life　refusing　to　believe。'
　　'Your　voice；'　he　said；　'the　whisper；　the　repetitive　phrases…Open　your　heart；　open　your　mind…like　a　hypnotist。'
　　'You　don't　really　believe　that；'　she　said　as　calmly　as　ever。　'Something　on　the　Polaroid；'　he　said；　and　heard　the　quiver　of　desperation　in　his　voice。
　　'What　do　you　mean？'　she　asked。
　　'A　chemical　substance。'
　　'No。'
　　An　hallucinogenic　drug。　Absorbed　through　the　skin。'
　　'No。'
　　'Something　I　absorbed　through　the　skin；'　he　insisted；　'put　me　in　an　altered　state　of　consciousness。'　He　rubbed　his　hands　on　his　corduroy　jacket。
　　'Nothing　on　the　photograph　could　have　entered　your　bloodstream　through　your　skin　so　quickly。　Nothing　could　have　affected　your　mind　in　mere　seconds。'
　　'I　don't　know　that　to　be　true。'
　　'I　do。'
　　'I'm　no　pharmacologist。'
　　'Then　consult　one；'　she　said　without　enmity。
　　'Shit。'　He　was　as　irrationally　angry　with　her　as　he　had　briefly　been　angry　with　Barbara　Christman。
　　The　more　rattled　he　became；　the　deeper　her　equanimity。　'What　you　experienced　was　synesthesia。'
　　'What？'
　　All　scientist　now；　Rose　Tucker　said；　'Synesthesia。　A　sensation　produced　in　one　modality　when　a　stimulus　is　applied　in　a　different　modality。'
　　'Mumbo…jumbo。'
　　'Not　at　all。　For　instance；　a　few　bars　of　a　familiar　song　are　played
　　…　but　instead　of　hearing　them；　you　might　see　a　certain　colour　or　smell　an　associated　aroma。　It's　a　rare　condition　in　the　general　population；　hut　it's　what　most　people　first　feel　with　these　photos…and　it's　mon　among　mystics。'
　　'Mystics！'　He　almost　spat　on　the　floor。　'I'm　no　mystic；　Dr。　Tucker。　I'm　a　crime　reporter…or　was。　Only　the　facts　matter　to　me。'
　　'Synesthesia　isn't　simply　the　result　of　religious　mania；　if　that's　what　you're　thinking；　Joe。　It's　a　scientifically　documented　experience　even　among　nonbelievers；　and　some　well…grounded　people　think　it's　a　glimpse　of　a　higher　state　of　consciousness。'
　　Her　eyes；　such　cool　lakes　before；　seemed　hot　now；　and　when　he　peered　into　them；　he　looked　at　once　away；　afraid　that　her　fire　would　spread　to　him。　He　was　not　sure　if　he　saw　evil　in　her　or　only　wanted　to　see　it；　and　he　was　thoroughly　confused。
　　'If　it　was　some　skin…permeating　drug　on　the　photograph；'　she　said；　as　maddeningly　soft…spoken　as　any　devil　ever　had　been；　'then　the　effect　would　have　lingered　after　you　dropped　it。'
　　He　said　nothing；　spinning　in　his　internal　turmoil。
　　'But　when　you　released　the　photo；　the　effect　ceased。　Because　what　you're　confronted　with　here　is　nothing　as　forting　as　mere　illusion；　Joe。'
　　'Where's　Nina？'　he　demanded。
　　Rose　indicated　the　Polaroid；　which　now　lay　on　the　table　where　he　had　dropped　it。　'Look。　See。'
　　'No。'
　　'Don't　be　afraid。'
　　Anger　surged　in　him；　boiled。　This　was　the　savage　anger　that　had　frightened　him　before。　It　frightened　him　now；　too；　but　he　could　not　control　it。
　　'Where's　Nina；　damn　it？'
　　'Open　your　heart；'　she　said　quietly。
　　'This　is　bullshit。'
　　'Open　your　mind。'
　　'Open　it　how　far？　Until　I've　emptied　out　my　head？　Is　that　what　you　want　me　to　be？'
　　She　gave　him　time　to　get　a　grip　on　himself。　Then：　'I　don't　want　you　to　be　anything；　Joe。　You　asked　me　where　Nina　is。　You　want　to　know　about　your　family。　I　gave　you　the　photograph　so　you　could　see。　So　you　could　see。'
　　Her　will　was　stronger　than　his；　and　after　a　while　he　found　himself　picking　up　the　photograph。
　　'Remember　the　feeling；'　she　encouraged　him。　'Let　it　e　to　you　again。'
　　It　did　not　e　to　him　again；　however；　although　he　turned　the　photograph　over　and　over　in　his　hands。　He　slid　his　fingertips　in　circles　across　the　glossy　image　but　could　not　feel　the　granite；　the　bronze；　the　grass。　He　summoned　the　blueness　and　the　brightness；　but　they　did　not　appear。
　　Tossing　the　photograph　aside　in　disgust；　he　said；　'I　don't　know　what　I'm　doing　with　this。'
　　Infuriatingly　patient；　she　smiled　passionately　and　held　out　a　hand　to　him。
　　He　refused　to　take　it。
　　Although　he　was　frustrated　by　what　he　now　perceived　as　her
　　New　Age　proclivities；　he　also　felt　that　somehow；　by　not　being　able　to　lose　himself　a　second　time　in　the　phantasmal　blue　brightness；　he　had　failed　Michelle　and　Chrissie　and　Nina。
　　But　if　his　experience　had　been　only　an　hallucination；　induced　with　chemicals　or　hypnosis；　then　it　had　no　significance；　and　giving　himself　to　the　waking　dream　once　again　could　not　bring　back　those　who　were　irretrievably　lost。
　　A　fusillade　of　confusions　ricocheted　through　his　mind。
　　Rose　said；　'It's　okay。　The　imbued　photograph　is　usually　enough。　But　not　always。'
　　'Imbued？'
　　'It's　okay；　Joe。　It's　okay。　Once　in　a　while　there's　someone　。　。　。　someone　like　you　。　。　。　and　then　the　only　thing　that　convinces　is　galvanic　contact。'
　　'I　don't　know　what　you're　talking　about。'
　　'The　touch。'
　　'What　touch？'
　　Instead　of　answering　him；　Rose　picked　up　the　Polaroid　snapshot　and　stared　at　it　as　though　she　could　clearly　see　something　that　Joe　could　see　not　at　all。　If　turmoil　touched　her　heart　and　mind；　she　hid　it　well；　for　she　seemed　as　tranquil　as　a　country　pond　in　a　windless　twilight。
　　Her　serenity　only　inflamed　Joe。　'Where's　Nina；　damn　it？　Where　is　my　little　girl？'
　　Calmly　she　returned　the　photograph　to　her　jacket　pocket。
　　She　said；　'Joe；　suppose　that　I　was　one　of　a　group　of　scientists　engaged　in　a　revolutionary　series　of　medical　experiments；　and　then　suppose　we　unexpectedly　discovered　something　that　could　prove　to　your　satisfaction　there　was　some　kind　of　life　after　death。'
　　'I　might　be　a　hell　of　a　lot　harder　to　convince　than　you。'
　　Her　softness　was　an　irritating　counterpoint　to　his　sharpness：　'It's　not　as　outrageous　an　idea　as　you　think。　For　the　past　couple　of　decades；　discoveries　in　molecular　biology　and　certain　branches　of　physics　have　seemed　ever　more　clearly　to　point　toward　a　created　universe。'
　　'You're　dodging　my　question。　Where　are　you　keeping　Nina？　Why　have　you　let　me　go　on　thinking　she's　dead？'
　　Her　face　remained　in　an　almost　eerie　repose。　Her　voice　was　still　soft　with　a　Zen…like　sense　of　peace。　'If　science　gave　us　a　way　to　perceive　the　truth　of　an　afterlife；　would　you　really　want　to　see　this　proof？　Most　people　would　say　yes　at　once；　without　thinking　how　such　knowledge　would　change　them　forever；　change　what　they　have　always　considered　important；　what　they　intend　to　do　with　their　lives。　And　then。　。　。　what　if　this　were　a　revelation　with　an　unnerving　edge？　Would　you　want　to　see　this　truth…even　if　it　was　as　frightening　as　it　was　uplifting；　as　fearsome　as　it　was　joyous；　as　deeply　and　thoroughly　strange　as　it　was　enlightening？'
　　'This　is　just　a　whole　lot　of　babble　to　me；　Dr。　Tucker；　a　whole　lot　of　nothing…like　healing　with　crystals　and　channelling　spirits　and　little　grey　men　kidnapping　people　in　flying　saucers。'
　　'Don't　just　look。　See。'
　　Through　the　red　lenses　of　his　defensive　anger；　Joe　perceived　her　calmness　as　a　tool　of　manipulation。　He　got　up　from　his　chair；　hands　fisted　at　his　sides。　'What　were　you　bringing　to　L。A。　on　that　plane；　and　why　did　Teknologik　and　its　friends　kill　three　hundred　and　twenty　people　to　stop　you？'
　　'I'm　trying　to　tell　you。'
　　'Then　tell　me！'
　　She　closed　her　eyes　and　folded　her　small　brown　hands；　as　though　waiting　for　this　storm　in　him　to　pass…but　her　serenity　only　fed　the　winds　of　his　tempest。
　　'Horton　Nellor。　Once　your　boss；　once　mine。　How　does　he　figure　in　this？'　Joe　demanded。
　　She　said　nothing。
　　'Why　did　the　Delmanns　and　Lisa　and　Captain　Blane　mit　suicide？　And　how　can　their　suicides　be　murder　like　you　say？　Who're　those　men　upstairs？　What　the　hell　is　this　all　about？'　He　was　shaking。　'Where　is　Nina？'
　　Rose　opened　her　eyes　and　regarded　him　with　sudden　concern；　her　tranquility　at　last　disturbed。　'What　men　upstairs？'
　　'Two　thugs　who　work　for　Teknologik　or　some　secret　damn　police　agency；　or　someone。'
　　She　turned　her　gaze　toward　the　restaurant。　'You're　sure？'
　　'I　recognized　them；　having　dinner。'
　　Getting　quickly　to　her　feet；　Rose　stared　at　the　low　ceiling　as　though　she　were　in　a　submarine　sinking　out　of　control　into　an　abyss；　furiously　calculating　the　enormity　of　the　crushing　pressure；　waiting　for　the　first　signs　of　failure　in　the　hull。
　　'If　two　of　them　are　inside；　you　can　bet　others　are　outside；'　Joe　said。
　　'Dear　God；'　she　whispered。
　　'Mahalia's　trying　to　figure　a　way　to　slip　us　past　them　after　closing　time。'
　　'She　doesn't　understand。　We've　got　to　get　out　of　here　now。'
　　'She's　having　boxes　stacked　in　the　receiving　room　to　cover　the　entrance　of　the　elevator…'
　　'I　don't　care　about　those　men　or　their　damn　guns；'　Rose　said；　rounding　the　end　of　the　table。　'If　they　e　down　here　after　us；　I　can　face　that；　handle　that。　I　don't　care　about　dying　that　way；　Joe。　But　they　don't　really　need　to　e　after　us。　If　they　know　we're　somewhere　in　this　building　right　now；　they　can　remote　us。'
　　'What？'
　　'Remote　us；'　she　said　fearfully；　heading　toward　one　of　the　doors　that　served　the　deck　and　the　beach。
　　Following　her；　exasperated；　Joe　said；　'What　does　that　mean　…remote　us？'
　　The　door　was　secured　by　a　pair　of　thumb…turn　deadbolts。　She　disengaged　the　upper　one。
　　He　clamped　his　hand　over　the　lower　lock；　preventing　her　from　opening　it。　'Where's　Nina？'
　　'Get　out　of　the　way；'　she　demanded。
　　'Where's　Nina？'
　　'Joe；　for　God's　sake…'
　　This　was　the　first　time　that　Rose　Tucker　had　seemed　vulnerable；　and　Joe　was