Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第27部分

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his　nerves　leap。　He　breathed　slowly；　deeply；　letting　tension　drain　out　of　his　body　until　he　was
poised　without　being　tight；　alert　without　being　jumpy。　It　required　all　of　his　discipline　to　remain
that　way。　An　hour　into　the　flight；　Coughlan　had　radioed　that　a　blond　woman　with　a　British
accent　and　BBC　credentials　had　entered　Manzanar。　She　had　come　alone。　She　was　using　the　name
Vanessa　Lyons。　She　said　she　was　working　on　a　story　about　Japanese…Americans　in　relocation
camps。
Finn　remembered　the　dead　Mexican　boy　with　the　maimed　hand。　She　must　have　tortured　the
name　Manzanar　out　of　the　boy。　She　was　almost　certainly　responsible　for　the　assassination
attempt　at　the　cemetery。　She　was　ruthless；　intelligent　and　had　the　nerves　of　a　tightrope　walker。
The　only　good　news　Coughlan　had　passed　on　was　that　Riley　was　off　the　critical　list。
Lightning　burned　across　the　night；　followed　by　enormous　thunder。　Finn　did　not　open　his　eyes。
“Not　much　bothers　you；　does　it？”　said　the　pilot。
Finn　looked　at　the　middle…aged　Army　major　who　had　volunteered　to　fly　a　stranger　over　the
Sierras　on　a　stormy　night。　“I’m　glad　it　doesn’t　show。”
The　pilot　laughed；　then　cursed　as　an　updraft　hurled　the　little　Piper　toward　the　stars。　“At　least
you’re　not　puking　all　over　the　place。”
Finn　stretched　as　much　as　he　could　in　the　small　cockpit　and　wished　for　coffee。　Suddenly　he
leaned　to　the　right；　staring　out　his　window　between　the　last　streamers　of　storm。　“Lights　at　three
o’clock！”
The　pilot　checked　his　gauges。　“Manzanar。　Where　do　we　land？”
“On　the　highway。　There　are　roadblocks　five　miles　on　either　side　of　the　camp。　Pick　one　and　set
me　down　as　close　to　it　as　you　can。”
The　pilot　gave　Finn　a　speculative　look；　but　asked　no　questions。
The　roadblocks　were　lit　by　flares　and　headlights　shining　along　the　black　surface　of　the　highway。
The　pilot　brought　the　plane　in　low；　tracing　the　road　with　his　landing　light。　In　the　beam；　smoke
from　the　flares　bent　across　the　highway　in　a　diagonal　line。　The　plane　jerked　and　shuddered　in　the
grip　of　the　wind。
“Hang　on；”　said　the　pilot。　“This　could　be　a　bitch。”
The　pilot　was　good；　the　plane　bounced　only　once。　Even　on　the　ground；　the　wind　jerked　at　the
Piper　as　it　taxied　toward　the　Army　Jeeps　parked　in　the　traffic　lanes；　blocking　and　at　the　same
time　illuminating　the　highway。　The　plane　stopped　six　feet　from　the　Jeeps。
Finn　looked　over　at　the　pilot　and　nodded　appreciatively。　“Nice　work。”
The　pilot　sighed。　“I’m　damn　glad　I　don’t　have　to　do　it　again。”
With　no　wasted　motions；　Finn　unbuckled　himself；　grabbed　the　radiation　counter；　and　climbed
out　of　the　plane。　The　night　shuddered　with　wind。
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The　guardhouse　showed　as　a　black　blot　in　the　middle　of　the　road。　The　private　stopped　the　Jeep
next　to　the　field…stone　building。　As　Finn　climbed　out；　the　guardhouse　door　opened；　illuminating
him　with　a　wash　of　light。　The　Jeep　turned　and　gunned　back　toward　the　highway；　leaving　Finn
alone　with　the　man　who　was　emerging　from　the　small　stone　house。
“Captain　Anderson？”
“Yes。”　The　captain　looked　oddly　at　Finn。　“I　was　told　to　expect　you　–　and　to　stay　out　of　your
way。”
“Any　trouble？”　Finn　asked；　following　Anderson　back　into　the　guardhouse。
“Not　yet。　The　Englishwoman　was　trying　to　interview　people；　but　she　didn’t　have　much　luck。　The
Japanese　are　very　polite；　but　they　don’t　say　much。”
“They　lived　in　paper　houses　for　centuries；”　said　Finn。　“They’ve　raised　civility　to　an　art　–　and
turned　it　into　armor。”
Anderson　smiled　sardonically。　“Last　I　heard；　she　was　in　the　USO　canteen。　Not　many　people　are
out　at　this　hour。　A　few　gamblers　going　back　to　angry　wives；　or　some　kids　sneaking　off　to　be
alone。　She’ll　probably　give　up　and　go　to　bed　soon。”
Finn　disagreed；　but　said　only；　“Is　there　any　rumor　of　new　Japanese　in　the　camp？”
Captain　Anderson　paused　as　though　listening　to。　the　wind。　“Agent　Coughlan　asked　the　same
thing。　I’ve　done　what　I　could　to　find　out；　but　–　have　you　ever　been　around　a　prison？”　Without
waiting　for　an　answer；　the　captain　continued。　“The　inmates　run　them。　Any　prison　–　every　prison。
But　especially　this　one。　We　don’t　know　any　more　about　these　people　than　we　did　the　day　they
arrived。　Less；　really。　We　thought　they　were　enemies；　then。　Now　–　who　knows？”
Anderson　poured　coffee　out　of　a　vacuum　flask　into　two　cups　as　he　talked。　He　handed　one　cup
to　Finn。　Finn　drank　steaming　coffee　and　studied　the　schematic　of　Manzanar　on　the　guardhouse
wall。　The　camp　was　a　warren　of　barracks　laid　out　in　military　rows；　functional　living　quarters　for
several　thousand　men；　women　and　children。　Almost　one…fifth　of　the　inmates　were　U。S。　citizens。
The　rest　were　Japanese　nationals。　All　had　reason　to　resent　the　government　he　represented。
Even　if　Manzanar’s　population　remained　neutral；　the　camp　gave　Kestrel　thousands　of　Japanese
faces　to　lose　himself　among。　Finn　glanced　at　the　clock　on　the　guardhouse　wall。　Less　than　six
hours　left。　Six　hours；　thousands　of　Japanese　and　two　lumps　of　uranium　that　could　be　buried
anywhere。
Finn　turned　back　to　the　captain。　“Every　prison　has　informants。”
“There’s　just　no　point；　here。　The　Japanese　aren’t　going　to　riot。　It’s　not　their　way。　The　ones　who
felt　differently　never　came　to　Manzanar　in　the　first　place。”
“Would　they　tell　you　if　one　of　Hirohito’s　spies　dropped　in　for　a　visit？”
“It　would　depend　on　what　the　spy　wanted　from　them。　They　solve　their　own　problems　in　there；
and　they　don’t　make　any　waves　while　they　do　it。　Oh；　every　once　in　a　while　Mr。　Oshiga　will　ask
the　colonel’s　advice；　but　it’s　just　a　polite　gesture。　They　are　very　polite。”
“Oshiga？　Takeo　Oshiga？”　asked　Finn。
“No。　Masataka。　He’s　Takeo’s　uncle；　I　believe。　Or　grandfather。　The　Japanese　in　Manzanar　may
bow　to　us；　but　they　obey　Masataka　Oshiga。”
Finn　turned　back　to　the　wall　map　for　a　moment；　as　though　willing　it　to　reveal　the　location　of　a
Japanese　spy；　the　daughter　of　a　San　Francisco　flower　seller；　and　the　uranium　whose　value　was
measured　in　lives　as　well　as　dollars。　Somewhere　inside　Manzanar　a　second　sun　waited　to　rise；　a
sun　that　would　kill　thousands　and　thereby　save　hundreds　of　thousands　from　dying　in　an　invasion
of　Japan。
“Look；”　said　Captain　Anderson；　“why　don’t　I　call　out　the　troops　and　search　the　place　one
apartment　at　a　time？”
“No。”　Finn’s　tone　was　smooth；　final；　leaving　no　possibility　of　question。　He　faced　the　captain。
“All　I　need　is　one　of　your　men　for　a　few　minutes。　I’ll　meet　him　by　the　front　fence。　Which
barracks　does　Takeo’s　family　live　in？”
“Thirty…nine；　apartment　A。　Back　by　the　rear　fence；　first　row；　near　the　washhouse。”
Page　139
“Does　Masataka　live　there　too？”
“No。”
“Good。　What’s　the　name　of　Masataka’s　wife？”
“Kiku。”
Finn　reached　back　under　his　jacket；　snaked　out　his　。45　and　checked　it。　Anderson　stared　at　the
gun。
“Jesus。　You　aren’t　going　to　shoot　her；　are　you？”
Finn　returned　the　gun　to　its　holster　in　the　small　of　his　back　and　picked　up　the　radiation　counter
again。　“If　you　don’t　hear　from　me　in　an　hour；　call　General　Groves。　He’ll　tell　you　what　to　do。”
He　opened　the　guardhouse　door　and　stood　for　a　moment　as　though　testing　the　wind。　The　door
closed　behind　him。　He　was　alone　in　the　desert　night。　As　he　faced　the　lights　of　Manzanar；　he　felt
the　skin　of　his　neck　tighten　and　move；　hidden　among　those　lights　was　the　power　to　change　the
world。
He　walked　toward　the　camp　with　long　strides。
Manzanar
42　Hours　19　Minutes　After　Trinity
The　USO　barracks　was　the　only　one　fully　lit。　The　wind　blew　through　cracks；　stirring　the
American　flags　that　were　draped　everywhere。　Vanessa　sat　at　a　table　just　inside　the　front　door；
smiling　and　talking　with　a　young；　slightly　drunk　lieutenant；　an　Isei；　second…generation　American。
He　lacked　the　personal　and　cultural　reserve　of　many　who　lived　in　Manzanar。　She　had　led　the
conversation　to　the　subject　of　life　in　San　Francisco　before　Pearl　Harbor。
“Did　you　know　the　Oshigas？”　she　asked。　“They　had　a　flower　shop　in　Little　Tokyo。　I　heard　he
was　sent　to　Manzanar。”
“You　bet；”　said　the　lieutenant；　finishing　off　his　beer。　“His　son　was　with　me　when　I　got　this。”　He
thumped　on　the　cast　covering　his　right　leg。　“Hell　of　a　fight。　We　were　lucky　to　come　out　alive。”
Vanessa　smiled；　concealing　the　leap　of　her　nerves。　Finally；　a　Japanese　who　was　not　afraid　to　talk。
“Is　the　whole　Oshiga　family　here？”
The　lieutenant　frowned。　“Ana　–　his　sister　–　went　to　Mexico。　It　nearly　killed　her　father。”
A　feral　alertness　swept　over　Vanessa。　“Mexico？”
“Juarez；　I　think。”　He　shrugged。　“It’s　not　a　popular　subject　with　the　Oshigas。”
“I　understand；”　she　murmured。　“They　are　loyal　Americans。”　Fools。　“Do　they　still　live　in
apartment　28B？”
“No；　it’s　39A；”　said　the　lieutenant；　signaling　for　another　beer。
Vanessa　controlled　the　impulse　to　leap　to　her　feet　and　run　out　of　there。　She　must　stay　for　a　few
minutes　more。　The　lieutenant　must　not　suspect　that　she　was　going　to　the　Oshigas’　apartment。　She
smiled　and　pretended　interest　in　what　the　lieutenant　was　saying　about　the　Italian　campaign。
Manzanar
42　Hours　29　Minutes　After　Trinity
“He　must　stay　here！”　said　Ana　fiercely；　her　voice　hoarse　from　the　long　argument　that　had
followed　her　appearance　with　Kestrel　in　her　father’s　apartment。　“You　can　see　he’s　ill！　What　harm
can　one　weak　stranger　do　to　any　of　you？”
“Tonight；　the　man　you　call　Kestrel　will　stay；”　said　Takeo。　“I　wouldn’t　dishonor　our　house　by
refusing　shelter　to　a　sick　man。”
Unconsciously；　Ana　looked　around　her　father’s　“house”　–　a　20’　by　25’　segment　of　barracks　–
with　a　combination　of　contempt　and　sadness。　Her　father　noticed　her　expression；　but　he　said
nothing　about　her　lack　of　respect。
“Tomorrow；”　Takeo　said；　“we　go　to　Masataka…san　and　ask　the　honor　of　his　wisdom。　He　will
hear　you；　and　the　man　Kestrel；　and　then　Masataka…san　will　decide　what　to　do。”
“But　–　“　began　Ana。
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“Enough；　daughter！”　whispered　Takeo。　“Masataka…san　is　wise。　He　will　tell　us　what　is　best　for　the
Japanese　in　Manzanar。”
“There　are　no　Japanese　in　Manzanar；”　hissed　Ana；　“just　2；000　faceless　Americans！”
Ana　turned　and　stalked　past　her　mother　to　the　apartment　door。　As　she　opened　it　and　stepped
out；　wind　snatched　the　door　out　of　her　grasp。　It　slammed　behind　her；　shaking　the　plywood　and
tarpaper　building。
“Ana！　Ana！”
She　pretended　not　to　hear　her　father’s　angry　cry。　Hunched　against　the　wind；　she　walked　to　the
women’s　latrine。　It　was　crowded　with　women　preparing　for　bed。　She　turned　away　and　walked
around　the　building；　waiting　for　it　to　empty　of　people。
Vanessa　heard　Ana’s　name　called　above　the　wind；　and　saw　her　stalk　out　of　39A。　Vanessa
hesitated；　then　followed；　believing　that　Ana　Oshiga；　lately　of　Juarez；　would　lead　her　to　the
Japanese　man　who　had　so　shrewdly　stolen　the　uranium。
Manzanar
42　Hours　41　Minutes　After　Trinity
The　knock　on　the　outer　door　was　hurried；　light；　barely　perceptible　over　the　wind。　Takeo　reached
to；　answer　it；　then　remembered　the　uninvited　guest　in　the　sleeping　cubicle。
“Who　is　knocking？”　called　Takeo　softly　in　Japanese。
“Kiku　sent　me；　Takeo；”　answered　a　man’s　voice　in　the　same　language。　“Come　quickly；　please。
Masataka　is　very　ill。　Kiku　asks　that　you　and　your　wife　come　now。”
“Yes；”　said　Takeo　quickly。
He　turned　to　tell　his　wife；　but　she　had　heard。　She　gathered　up　jackets　for　both　of　them　and
hurried　to　the　door。　As　Takeo　pulled　the　door　shut　behind　him；　a　tall　man　stepped　out　of　the
shadows。　Behind　him　waited　another　man；　a　soldier。
“Go　with　the　soldier；”　Finn　said　in　Japanese。　“You　won’t　be　hurt；　but　you　must　be　quiet。　Do　you
understand？”
Wind　blew；　nearly　drowning　Takeo’s　soft　“Yes。”
“Is　Ana　inside？”
Takeo　hesitated；　then　made　a　gesture　of　sadness　or　despair。　“No。”
“Where　is　she？”
“We　argued；”　said　Takeo；　his　face　expressionless。　“She　left。”
“When？”
“A　few　minutes　ago。”
Finn　looked　at　the　soldier　and　nodded。　The　soldier　led　Takeo　and　his　wife　away。　When　they
were　gone；　Finn　turned　and　quietly　opened　the　door。　The　wind　gusted　suddenly。　The　door
thumped　shut　despite　Finn’s　attempt　to　prevent　it。
The　sound　penetrated　Kestrel’s　sleep。　He　stumbled　to　the　surface　of　his　fever　dream；　carrying　a
tiny　mountain　in　a　silver　pail。　As　he　staggered；　the　mountain　grew；　a　silent　expansion　that
consumed　his　strength。　The　pain　crinkled；　turned　scarlet　and　peeled　away；　revealing　the　white
shine　of　the　growing　mountain。　Too　heavy　for　his　arms；　he　had　to　carry　the　mountain　on　his
shoulders；　his　body　bent　and　twisted　and　the　mountain　swelling　as　silently；　as　irrevocably；　as　the
dawn。
He　was　outside　himself；　watching　himself　struggle；　straining　to　balance　a　mountain　as　big　as
Japan　on　his　back。　The　mountain　continued　to　grow；　snow…topped；　conical；　an　immense　volcano
wrapped　in　its　own　perfection；　waiting　for　the　annihilating　instant　of　release。　His　body　and　the
mountain　trembled。　The　world　exploded　into　a　column　of　brilliant　white　silence。
He　screamed；　and　the　column　answered　in　a　burst　of　rolling　thunder　that　was　also　white；　the
flawless　white　of　death。
Kestrel　awoke；　feeling　the　last　of　his　dream　in　the　sweat　that　gathered　on　his　flesh。　He　was　very
thirsty。　He　rolled　onto　his　side　and　looked　around　the　tiny；　bare　corner　divided　from　the　rest　of
Page　141
the　apartment　by　two　sheets。　A　small　window　with　four　panes　of　glass　looked　out　onto　the　blank
wall　of　another　barracks。　The　curtain　had　been　washed　so　many　times　it　was　nearly　transparent。
An　origami　bird　and　two　pictures　clipped　out　of　a　magazine　were　all　that　decorated　the
plywood　walls。　Dust　sifted　through　the　ill…fitted　window；　coating　a　floor　bleached　by　repeated
scrubbings。　Near　the　bed；　a　pitcher　of　water　and　a　glass　made　intersecting　rings　on　the　floor。
Kestrel　lifted　himself　on　one　elbow　and　poured　a　glass　of　water。　He　drank　slowly；　despite　his
hot　thirst。　His　stomach　and　bowels　accepted　the　water　without　rebellion。　Feeling　stronger；　he　lay
back　and　tried　to　sleep；　but　something　kept　intruding　into　his　awareness。
Quiet。　It　was　too　quiet。　He　had　gone　to　sleep　with　the　murmur　of　Ana’s　family　in　his　ears；　but
now　there　was　nothing。　Even　if　everyone　was　asleep；　there　should　be　a　multitude　of　small　noises；
breathing　and　the　rustle　of　sheets；　the　random　sounds　of　people　in　the　grip　of　dreams。
But　there　was　only　the　wind。
Beyond　the　sheet　dividers；　footsteps　suddenly　sounded；　crossing　the　floor；　coming　closer。　One
sheet　was　pulled　aside。　A　man　stepped　into　Kestrel’s　small　room。　In　one　hand　the　man　carried　a
black　box　set　with　dials。　In　the　other　was　a　gun。
Kestrel　recognized　Finn　immediately；　not　from　his　height　or　race；　but　from　the　way　he　moved　–
like　a　hunting　cat；　utterly　controlled。
Finn　tore　down　the　sheet　dividers　with　two　hard　jerks。　He　cataloged　the　area　in　a　glance；　from
the　thin　curtains　and　the　fresh　water…rings　on　the　floor；　to　the　calm；　powerful　man　lying　on　the
bed；　watching　him　with　the　opaque　black　eyes　he　had　last　seen　across　a　cockfighting　pit　in　Juarez。
“Kestrel。”
Finn’s　statement　was　barely　louder　than　the　wind。　Kestrel　knew　he　could　deny　the　name；　and
knew　that　denial　would　be　futile。　There　had　been　no　doubt　in　Finn’s　tone。
Cautiously　Finn　approached　the　bed。　He　stopped　just　beyond　arm’s　reach。　The　Japanese　smiled
and　opened　his　hands　on　top　of　the　Army　blanket。
“You　have　nothing　to　fear　from　me；”　said　Kestrel　in　Japanese。　“I　am　ill；　a　scabbard　without　a
sword；　harmless。”
“You　are　samurai；”　answered　Finn　in　the　same　language。　“Like　fire；　you　are　always　armed；
always　dangerous。”
“Ana　was　right　to　fear　you；”　murmured　Kestrel。　With　subtle　movements；　he　gathered　himself
for　the　fight　that　must　come。
Finn　glanced　quickly　around　the　room；　missing　nothing。　If　the　uranium　was　here；　it　was　hidden
beneath　the　floor。　With　his　left　hand　he　set　down　the　radiation　counter　and　switched　it　on。　The
counter　clicked　excitedly。　He　pointed　the　probe　toward　Kestrel。　A　sound　like　cloth　ripping
filled　the　room。
“Get　out　of　bed；　slowly。”
Finn　spoke　in　English；　but　Kestrel　responded　immediately。　He　sat　up　in　stages；　feigning　more
weakness　than　he　felt。　Fever　had　dulled　his　reflexes；　until　he　knew　the　extent　of　his　weakness；　he
would　not　attack。　Nor　would　he　acknowledge　despair。　That　would　drain　his　strength　as　surely　as
fever。
“Lie　down　on　your　stomach；”　said　Finn；　pointing　toward　the　opposite　corner　of　the　room。
“Turn　your　face　to　the　wall　and　put　your　hands　behind　your　head。”
Kestrel　looked　at　the　perfect；　circular　eye　of　the　gun　that　followed　each　of　his　movements。　He
stretched　out　on　the　cold　floor　as　Finn　had　ordered。
“Lie　very　still。”
With　quick；　wary　glances　back　at　Kestrel；　Finn　shook　out　the　bedclothes。　When　he　was　sure
there　were　no　hidden　weapons；　he　swept　the　probe　over　the　bed　Kestrel　had　occupied。　There
was　radiation；　but　not　as　much。　Kestrel；　not　hidden　uranium；　was　the　source　of　the　counter’s
excitement。　Finn　controlled　his　disappointment　with　an　effort。　To　be　so　close　and　not　to　find　it

“Where　is　the　uranium？”
Kestrel　did　not　answer。
He　measured　Kestrel　with　pale　eyes。　The　Japanese　was　ill；　but　hardly　incapacitated。　Kestrel
would　be　more　difficult　to　break　than　the　Mexican　at　the　winery。　Finn　did　not　have　enough
hours　to　try　Kestrel’s　threshold　of　pain；　and　then　to　separate　lies　from　half…truths　and　misleading
truths。
“Where　is　Ana？”
Kestrel　said　nothing；　merely　watched　Finn　and　waited　for　an　instant　of　carelessness。　Finn　swept
the　probe　over　Kestrel　as　he　lay　on　the　floor。　The　counter　shrieked。　He　stepped　back；　set　down
the　counter；　and　turned　it　off。　In　the　drafty　corner；　Kestrel　shivered　and　tried　to　suppress　the
metallic　taste　of　defeat。
“You　can　get　back　in　bed。”
Kestrel　went　to　the　bed。　He　pulled　the　thin　Army　blanket　around　his　shoulders　and　sat；　watching
his　enemy；　waiting　for　the　chance　to　win　or　die。
“How　much　do　you　know　about　what　you　stole？”　asked　Finn。
“I’m　a　physicist。”
“I　see。”　Finn’s　voice　was　almost　gentle；　Kestrel　must　know　he　had　absorbed　too　much　radiation。
Finn’s　eyes　measured　the　Japanese　spy；　wondering　what　was　the　quickest　way　to　break　him。　How
do　you　threaten　a　man　who　might　already　be　dying？　Kestrel　stared　back；　measuring　Finn　in　turn。
With　a　quickness　that　was　not　lost　on　Kestrel；　Finn　holstered　his　。45　and　faced　the　Japanese　with
empty　hands。
“You　could　trade　the　uranium　for　a　hospital　bed　or　safe…passage　home。”
“No。”
Finn　accepted　it。　He　had　expected　no　less。
“What　do　you　think　you　can　do　with　the　uranium？　Japan　doesn’t　have　the　ability　to　turn　it　into　a
bomb。”
For　a　long　moment　Kestrel　said　nothing。　Then；　“The　uranium　will　be　returned　to　America　when
Japan　is　offered　something　less　degrading　than　unconditional　surrender。”
“That　won’t　happen。”
Kestrel　became　very　still；　his　expression　as　opaque　as　his　eyes。
“I’m　not　taunting　you；”　said　Finn；　switching　to　Japanese。　“I’m　merely　weighing　time　against　the
fall　of　cherry　blossoms。　The　world　has　moved　much　faster　since　you　saw　two　dawns　rise　over
Jornada　del　Muerto。　The　bomb　may　be　more　merciful　than　any　other　choice　your　nation　has。”
Wind　hissed　through　the　silence。
“Listen　to　me。”　Finn　spoke　in　English　now；　his　words　as　plain　as　the　rings　of　water　next　to
Kestrel’s　bed。　“If　the　uranium　is　not　in　my　possession　before　dawn；　America　will　be　committed
to　invading　Japan。”
Finn　paused；　but　Kestrel　neither　moved　nor　spoke。
“Japan　will　fight　t