Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第61章

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Ana　watched　him　walk　around　to　the　back　of　the　car。　The　raised　trunk　lid　cut　off　her　view。　She
heard　the　rattle　of　the　rusty　tin　pails。　There　were　two　distinct　thumps　as　the　heavy　metal　balls　hit
the　bottom　of　the　pails。　The　trunk　lid　closed；　revealing　Kestrel　again。
Although　color　had　been　drained　from　the　land；　some　light　remained。　Ana　saw　Kestrel　turn
away　from　the　car；　carrying　one　pail　in　his　right　hand。　He　scrambled　out　of　the　ravine　which　hid
the　car。　For　a　moment　he　was　silhouetted　against　the　blue…black　sky；　then　he　vanished。
Ana　hesitated　for　only　an　instant　before　she　got　out　of　the　car　as　silently　as　she　could　and
followed　Kestrel。　She　was　worried　by　the　change　that　had　come　over　him　since　he　had　first
opened　the　trunk　in　the　high　Sierra　pass。　Since　that　moment　he　had　seemed　to　recede　from　her
like　a　dream；　becoming　more　distant　as　the　afternoon　light　had　thickened　into　sunset。
Ana　knew　he　was　ill。　She　wanted　to　help　him；　but　did　not　know　how。　He　could　be　so　remote；
folded　in　upon　himself　like　the　immaculate　curves　of　a　lotus　bud；　aware　only　of　his　own　silent
center。
Yet　when　he　had　sensed　her　growing　fear；　he　had　gathered　her　into　his　arms；　held　her　within　his
silence　like　a　precious　memory。　She　could　not　sit　now　and　watch　him　walk　alone　into　the　night。
Sand　and　rocks　turned　beneath　Ana’s　feet。　Brittle　brush　caught　the　folds　of　the　dress　that　was
bright　red　by　day；　black　in　the　twilight。　Cautiously；　she　peered　up　over　the　edge　of　the　ravine。
Thirty　feet　away；　Kestrel　waited；　his　face　a　distinct　paleness　against　the　dusk。　He　was　looking
toward　her。　She　realized　that　he　had　heard　her　follow　him。　She　shrank　back；　not　wanting　to　face
his　anger。　His　footsteps　approached；　then　stopped　at　the　edge　of　the　arroyo。
“I　just　wanted　to　help…”　Ana’s　voice　thinned　into　silence。
Wordlessly；　Kestrel　set　down　the　heavy　pail。
“You’ve　been　so　far　away；”　said　Ana。　“I　was　afraid　you　would’t　come　back。”
Just　as　the　silence　became　unbearable　to　Ana；　Kestrel　reached　out　to　her；　pulled　her　against　him。
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His　skin　was　cool；　chilled　by　night　closing　swiftly　around　him。
Ana　held　on　to　him　with　surprising　strength；　understanding　only　that　at　this　moment　he　needed
her　warmth。　He　kissed　her　very　gently；　and　just　as　gently　released　her。
“If　you　must　follow　me；”　he　said；　“you　can　bring　the　other　bucket。”
“I’m　sorry。　I’ll　go　back。　I’ll　wait　for　you。”
“No；　it’s　better　this　way。　Bring　the　bucket。”
She　turned　away。
“Wait；”　said　Kestrel。　“In　this　you　must　obey　me。　When　you　carry　that　bucket；　do　not　come　close
to　the　other　bucket。　The　buckets　must　not　touch。”
“Yes。”
She　scrambled　back　to　the　car；　snatched　up　the　handle　of　the　pail　and　returned。　Kestrel　had
climbed　out　of　the　ravine。　He　pulled　her　up　its　crumbling　side　with　an　ease　that　belied　sickness。
Thirty　feet　away　from　him；　the　other　tin　pail　glowed　faintly　in　the　twilight。
“Wait　here；”　said　Kestrel。　“When　I　pick　up　my　pail；　follow　me。　When　I　walk；　you　walk。　When　I
stop；　you　stop。　Don’t　talk。　Sound　carries　far　in　this　land。”
Ana　followed　Kestrel　across　a　subtle　rise　in　the　desert　floor。　The　land　looked　flat；　but　was　not。　It
was　like　an　enormous　rumpled　sheet　draped　across　the　foot　of　the　Sierras。
With　each　step　the　desert　and　the　night　closed　more　fully　around　her。　Her　eyes　continued　to
adjust；　finding　illumination　where　she　thought　there　was　none。　Kestrel　set　down　his　pail　and
walked　back　to　Ana。
“Manzanar　is　just　ahead；”　he　murmured。　“I’m　going　to　bury　the　buckets　before　we　go　in。　When
we　get　through　the　fence；　I’ll　hide　until　you　find　your　family。”
Kestrel　dug　in　the　sandy　soil　near　the　base　of　a　clump　of　sagebrush；　using　one　of　the　pails　as　a
shovel。　Each　time　the　metal　lip　of　the　pail　scraped　over　hidden　rocks；　Ana　held　her　breath。
The*1　sounds　seemed　loud　in　the　desert’s　vast　silence；　as　vivid　as　lightning　at　midnight。　Kestrel；
knowing　that　some　noise　was　unavoidable；　kept　on　digging。
He　lowered　the　larger　piece　of　uranium　into　the　hole　he　had　made。　Quickly；　he　shoved　in　a　layer
of　loose　soil；　tipped　the　bucket　on　its　side　in　the　hole；　and　filled　both　bucket　and　hole　until　only
a　half…inch　of　metal　pail　poked　above　the　sand　to　mark　the　burial　place。　Thirty　feet　away；　he
repeated　the　process　with　the　smaller　piece　of　uranium。
When　Kestrel　was　finished；　he　selected　three　small　branches　from　the　litter　at　the　base　of　the
sagebrush　clump。　He　used　the　branches　as　guides　pointing　from　one　piece　of　uranium　to　the
other。　The　third　branch　he　jammed　into　the　lip　of　the　rise。　Then　he　stood　motionless；
memorizing　landmarks　that　stood　out　of　the　increasing　gloom。
The　lights　of　Manzanar　glowed　more　brightly　with　each　moment；　so　close　Ana　thought　she
could　touch　them。　It　was　an　illusion　fostered　by　clear　air　and　her　own　anxiety；　Manzanar’s　outer
fence　was　a　hundred　yards　away；　the　barracks　several　hundred　yards　beyond　that。
“Come。”
Ana　started　at　Kestrel’s　voice　so　close　to　her　ear。　Silently　she　followed　him。　When　they　reached
the　fence；　Kestrel　took　a　small　pair　of　wire　cutters　from　his　pocket。　The　cutters　were　suited
more　for　florists　wire　than　Army　fencing；　but　Kestrel　was　both　strong　and　patient。　The　wires
parted。
Kestrel　guided　Ana　through；　then　pulled　a　tumbleweed　over　to　conceal　the　break　in　the　fence。
Ana　waited；　her　heart　beating　so　loudly　that　she　could　hear　nothing　else。
“This　way；”　breathed　Kestrel。
He　led　her　closer　to　the　barracks　lights。　As　they　approached　the　buildings；　they　heard　voices
raised；　people　calling　back　and　forth　across　the　barracks　rows。　The　smell　of　a　compost　pile
replaced　the　astringent　odor　of　sage。　A　garden’s　orderly　rows　marched　toward　the　first　building
a　few　hundred　feet　away。
Kestrel　stopped。　Ana　moved　until　she　was　so　close　that　his　breath　warmed　her　lips。
“I’ll　wait　for　you　here；”　said　Kestrel。　His　hands　framed　her　face。　“If　you　aren’t　alone；　I　must
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assume　you　are　a　prisoner。　I　will　kill　whoever　is　with　you；　Ana。　Come　alone　if　you　can。”
Ana　remembered　Refugio’s　swift　death；　but　the　memory　had　no　impact。　She　realized　suddenly
that　she　did　not　care　who　Kestrel　had　killed；　or　that　he　might　kill　again。　She　buried　her　face
against　his　neck。
“Just　be　here　when　I　come　back；”　she　whispered　fiercely。　“Nothing　else　matters。”
Kestrel　smiled　against　the　silky　coolness　of　her　hair。　“You’re　becoming　more　Japanese；”　he
whispered。　“Now　if　you　could　only　learn　obedience…。”
Ana　laughed　softly。　Her　lips　brushed　his；　then　she　slipped　from　his　arms　into　the　impersonal
embrace　of　night。
Manzanar
40　Hours　After　Trinity
Ana　walked　between　rows　of　plywood　and　tarpaper　barracks；　looking　for　“apartment”　number
39A。　All　around　her；　people　hurried　through　the　night；　pushed　by　the　wind　that　was　as　much　a
part　of　Manzanar　as　the　blowing　sand。　Several　times　she　was　frightened　by　the　sight　of　uniforms；
only　to　realize　that　they　were　worn　by　Nisei　soldiers　on　leave；　visiting　their　families　in　Manzanar。
At　first　Ana　kept　her　head　down；　avoiding　direct　glances。　Then　she　realized　that　the　camp　was
too　big　for　a　strange　Japanese　to　be　noticed。　What　was　one　more　among　Manzanar’s　thousands？
She　found　apartment　39A　at　the　end　of　a　long　barracks　row；　facing　the　Sierras。　The　public
washrooms　were　nearby；　and　the　fence　was　only　a　short　distance。
Reluctantly；　Ana　faced　the　barracks　where　her　father　and　mother　lived。　She　hoped　that　her
brother　was　still　in　Italy。　She　did　not　want　to　argue　about　loyalty　tonight。　Nor　did　she　want　to
confront　her　sad；　worn　father。　For　a　moment　she　considered　going　directly　to　Masataka　Oshiga；
her　father’s　uncle。　It　was　Masataka　who　had　given　her　money　and　a　letter　of　introduction　to
Takagura　Omi　in　Juarez。　But　it　was　also　Masataka　who　had　helped　her　brother　enlist　in　the
American　Army。　Masataka　was　like　a　weaver；　knotting　up　the　disparate　threads　of　the　American
Japanese　communities；　carrying　messages　between　families　torn　apart　by　war。　Japanese　loyalists
and　Americans　alike　claimed　Masataka　as　their　own。
Ana　did　not　know　where　the　truth　of　Masataka’s　loyalty　was。　All　she　knew　was　that　he　had
helped　her；　and　Takagura　trusted　him　in　many　things。　But　Masataka　was　traditional；　he　would
expect　her　to　go　to