白噪音(White Noise) (英文版)作者:唐·德里罗(Don DeLillo)-第32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！


　were　being　made　to　provide　food　and　shelter。　We　heard　horns　blowing　and　thought　it　was　a　reaction　to　the　radio　announcement　but　they　continued　in　a　rapid　and　urgent　cadence；　conveying　through　the　stormy　night　a　sense　of　animal　fear　and　warning。
　　Then　we　heard　the　rotors。　Through　the　stark　trees　we　saw　it；　the　immense　toxic　cloud；　lighted　now　by　eighteen　choppers—　immense　almost　beyond　prehension；　beyond　legend　and　rumor；　a　roiling　bloated　slug…shaped　mass。　It　seemed　to　be　generating　its　own　inner　storms。　There　were　cracklings　and　sputterings；　flashes　of　light；　long　looping　streaks　of　chemical　flame。　The　car　horns　blared　and　moaned。　The　helicopters　throbbed　like　giant　appliances。　We　sat　in　the　car；　in　the　snowy　woods；　saying　nothing。　The　great　cloud；　beyond　its　turbulent　core；　was　silver…tipped　in　the　spotlights。　It　moved　horribly　and　sluglike　through　the　night；　the　choppers　seeming　to　putter　ineffectually　around　its　edges。　In　its　tremendous　size；　its　dark　and　bulky　menace；　its　escorting　aircraft；　the　cloud　resembled　a　national　promotion　for　death；　a　multimillion…dollar　campaign　backed　by　radio　spots；　heavy　print　and　billboard；　TV　saturation。　There　was　a　high…tension　discharge　of　vivid　light。　The　horn…blowing　increased　in　volume。
　　I　recalled　with　a　shock　that　I　was　technically　dead。　The　interview　with　the　SIMUVAC　technician　came　back　to　me　in　terrible　detail。　I　felt　sick　on　several　levels。
　　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　try　to　get　the　family　to　safety。　I　kept　pushing　toward　the　headlights；　the　sound　of　blowing　horns。　Wilder　was　asleep；　planing　in　uniform　spaces。　I　hit　the　accelerator；　jerked　the　wheel；　arm…wrestled　the　car　through　a　stand　of　white　pine。
　　Through　his　mask　Heinrich　said；　〃Did　you　ever　really　look　at　your　eye？〃
　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　Denise　said；　showing　immediate　interest；　as　though　we　were　lazing　away　a　midsummer　day　on　the　front　porch。
　　〃Your　own　eye。　Do　you　know　which　part　is　which？〃
　　〃You　mean　like　the　iris；　the　pupil？〃
　　〃Those　are　the　publicized　parts。　What　about　the　vitreous　body？　What　about　the　lens？　The　lens　is　tricky。　How　many　people　even　know　they　have　a　lens？　They　think　'lens'　must　be　'camera。'〃
　　〃What　about　the　ear？〃　Denise　said　in　a　muffled　voice。
　　〃If　the　eye　is　a　mystery；　totally　forget　the　ear。　Just　say　'cochlea'　to　somebody；　they　look　at　you　like；　'Who's　this　guy？'　There's　this　whole　world　right　inside　our　own　body。〃
　　〃Nobody　even　cares；〃　she　said。
　　〃How　can　people　live　their　whole　lives　without　knowing　the　names　of　their　own　parts　of　the　body？〃
　　〃What　about　the　glands？〃　she　said。
　　〃Animal　glands　you　can　eat。　The　Arabs　eat　glands。〃
　　〃The　French　eat　glands；〃　Babette　said　through　gauze。　'The　Arabs　eat　eyes；　speaking　of　eyes。〃
　　〃What　parts？〃　Denise　said。
　　'The　whole　eye。　The　sheep　eye。〃
　　'They　don't　eat　the　lashes；〃　Heinrich　said。
　　〃Do　sheep　have　lashes？〃　Steffie　said。
　　〃Ask　your　father；〃　Babette　said。
　　The　car　forded　a　creek　which　I　didn't　know　was　there　until　we　were　in　it。　I　struggled　to　get　us　over　the　opposite　bank。　Snow　fell　thickly　through　the　high　beams。　The　muffled　dialogue　went　on。　I　reflected　that　our　current　predicament　seemed　to　be　of　merely　glancing　interest　to　some　of　us。　I　wanted　them　to　pay　attention　to　the　toxic　event。　I　wanted　to　be　appreciated　for　my　efforts　in　getting　us　to　the　parkway。　I　thought　of　telling　them　about　the　puter　tally；　the　time…factored　death　I　carried　in　my　chromosomes　and　blood。　Self…pity　oozed　through　my　soul。　I　tried　to　relax　and　enjoy　it。
　　〃I'll　give　anybody　in　this　car　five　dollars；〃　Heinrich　said　through　his　protective　mask；　〃if　you　can　tell　me　whether　more　people　died　building　the　pyramids　in　Egypt　or　building　the　Great　Wall　of　China—and　you　have　to　say　how　many　died　in　each　place；　within　fifty　people。〃
　　I　followed　three　snowmobiles　across　an　open　field。　They　conveyed　a　mood　of　clever　fun。　The　toxic　event　was　still　in　view；　chemical　tracers　shooting　in　slow　arcs　out　of　its　interior。　We　passed　families　on　foot；　saw　a　line　of　paired　red　lights　winding　through　the　dark。　When　we　edged　out　of　the　woods；　people　in　other　cars　gave　us　sleepy　looks。　It　took　ninety　minutes　to　reach　the　parkway；　another　thirty　to　get　to　the　cloverleaf；　where　we　spun　off　toward　Iron　City。　It　was　here　that　we　met　up　with　the　group　from　the　Kung　Fu　Palace。　Tooting　horns；　waving　children。　Like　wagon　trains　converging　on　the　Santa　Fe　Trail。　The　cloud　still　hung　in　the　rearview　mirror。
　　Krylon；　Rust…Oleum；　Red　Devil。
　　We　reached　Iron　City　at　dawn。　There　were　checkpoints　at　all　the　road　exits。　State　troopers　and　Red　Cross　workers　handed　out　mimeographed　instructions　concerning　evacuation　centers。　Half　an　hour　later　we　found　ourselves；　with　forty　other　families；　in　an　abandoned　karate　studio　on　the　top　floor　of　a　four…story　building　on　the　main　street。　There　were　no　beds　or　chairs。　Steffie　refused　to　take　off　her　mask。
　　By　nine　a。m。　we　had　a　supply　of　air　mattresses；　some　food　and　coffee。　Through　the　dusty　windows　we　saw　a　group　of　turbaned　schoolchildren；　members　of　the　local　Sikh　munity；　standing　in　the　street　with　a　hand…lettered　sign：　IRON　CITY　WELES　AREA　EVACUEES。　We　were　not　allowed　to　leave　the　building。
　　On　the　wall　of　the　studio　there　were　poster…size　illustrations　of　the　six　striking　surfaces　of　the　human　hand。
　　At　noon　a　rumor　swept　the　city。　Technicians　were　being　lowered　in　slings　from　army　helicopters　in　order　to　plant　microorganisms　in　the　core　of　the　toxic　cloud。　These　organisms　were　genetic　rebinations　that　had　a　built…in　appetite　for　the　particular　toxic　agents　in　Nyodene　D。　They　would　literally　consume　the　billowing　cloud；　eat　it　up；　break　it　down；　depose　it。
　　This　stunning　innovation；　so　similar　in　nature　to　something　we　might　e　across　in　the　National　Enquirer　or　the　Star；　made　us　feel　a　little　weary；　glutted　in　an　insubstantial　way；　as　after　a　junk　food　spree。　I　wandered　through　the　room；　as　I'd　done　in　the　Boy　Scout　barracks；　moving　from　one　conversational　knot　to　another。　No　one　seemed　to　know　how　a　group　of　microorganisms　could　consume　enough　toxic　material　to　rid　the　sky　of　such　a　dense　and　enormous　cloud。　No　one　knew　what　would　happen　to　the　toxic　waste　once　it　was　eaten　or　to　the　microorganisms　once　they　were　finished　eating。
　　Everywhere　in　the　room　children　were　striking　mock　karate　poses。　When　I　got　back　to　our　area；　Babette　sat　alone　in　a　scarf　and　knitted　cap。
　　〃I　don't　like　this　latest　rumor；〃　she　said。
　　〃Too　far…fetched？　You　think　there's　no　chance　a　bunch　of　organisms　can　eat　their　way　through　the　toxic　event。〃
　　〃I　think　there's　every　chance　in　the　world。　I　don't　doubt　for　a　minute　they　have　these　little　organisms　packaged　in　cardboard　with　plastic　see…through　bubbles；　like　ballpoint　refills。　That's　what　worries　me。〃
　　〃The　very　existence　of　custom…made　organisms。〃
　　'The　very　idea；　the　very　existence；　the　wondrous　ingenuity。　On　the　one　hand　I　definitely　admire　it。　Just　to　think　there　are　people　out　there　who　can　conjure　such　things。　A　cloud…eating　microbe　or　whatever。　There　is　just　no　end　of　surprise。　All　the　amazement　that's　left　in　the　world　is　microscopic。　But　I　can　live　with　that。　What　scares　me　is　have　they　thought　it　through　pletely？〃
　　〃You　feel　a　vague　foreboding；〃　I　said。
　　〃I　feel　they're　working　on　the　superstitious　part　of　my　nature。　Every　advance　is　worse　than　the　one　before　because　it　makes　me　more　scared。〃
　　〃Scared　of　what？〃
　　〃The　sky；　the　earth；　I　don't　know。〃
　　〃The　greater　the　scientific　advance；　the　more　primitive　the　fear。〃
　　〃Why　is　that？〃　she　said。
　　At　three　p。m。　Steffie　was　still　wearing　the　protective　mask。　She　walked　along　the　walls；　a　set　of　pale　green　eyes；　discerning；　alert；　secretive。　She　watched　people　as　if　they　could　not　see　her　watching；　as　if　the　mask　covered　her　eyes　instead　of　leaving　them　exposed。　People　thought　she　was　playing　a　game。　They　winked　at　her；　said　hi。　I　was　certain　it　would　take　at　least　another　day　before　she　felt　safe　enough　to　remove　the　protective　device。　She　was　solemn　about　warnings；　interpreted　danger　as　a　state　too　lacking　in　detail　and　precision　to　be　confined　to　a　certain　time　and　place。　I　knew　we　would　simply　have　to　wait　for　her　to　forget　the　amplified　voice；　the　sirens；　the　night　ride　through　the　woods。　In　the　meantime　the　mask；　setting　off　her　eyes；　dramatized　her　sensitivity　to　episodes　of　stress　and　alarm。　It　seemed　to　bring　her　closer　to　the　real　concerns　of　the　world；　honed　her　in　its　wind。
　　At　seven　p。m。　a　man　carrying　a　tiny　TV　set　began　to　walk　slowly　through　the　room；　making　a　speech　as　he　went。　He　was　middle…aged　or　older；　a　clear…eyed　and　erect　man　wearing　a　fur…lined　cap　with　lowered　flaps。　He　held　the　TV　set　well　up　in　the　air　and　out　away　from　his　body　and　during　the　course　of　his　speech　he　turned　pletely　around　several　times　as　he　walked　in　order　to　display　the　blank　screen　to　all　of　us　in　the　room。
　　〃There's　nothing　on　network；〃　he　said　to　us。　〃Not　a　word；　not　a　picture。　On　the　Glassboro　channel　we　rate　fifty…two　words　by　actual　count。　No　film　footage；　no　live　report。　Does　this　kind　of　thing　happen　so　often　that　nobody　cares　anymore？　Don't　those　people　know　what　we've　been　through？　We　were　scared　to　death。　We　still　are。　We　l