The Descent

The  doctors  covered  the  burned  man  with  a  sleeping  bag  and  gave  him  water  to drink. The  man opened his one good eye.  'Crockett?' he rasped.

'Guess he knows you,' Walker said. The  whole camp stood breathless.

'Why did they  send you?' Ike  asked.

The  man  tried  to  form  the  words.  He  struggled  beneath  the  sleeping  bag.  Ike  gave him more water.

'Closer,' said the soldier.

Ike  leaned in. He bent to hear.

'Judas,' the man hissed.

The  knife drove  straight up through the sleeping bag.

The  fabric  or  pain  spoiled  the  assassin's  thrust.  The  blade  skipped  along  Ike's  rib cage but did not enter.  The  soldier had enough strength  for a second slash  across  Ike's back, then Ike  caught his wrist.

Walker and Shoat and the doctors fell back  from  the  attack.  One  of  the  mercenaries reacted  with three  quick  shots  into  the  burned  man's  thorax.  The  body  bounced  with each round.

'Cease fire!' Walker yelled. It  was over  that fast.

The  only sound was the water  flowing.

The  expedition  stared  in  disbelief.  No  one  moved.  They  had  seen  the  attack  and heard the soldier's whispered word.

Ike  knelt in their midst, dumbfounded. He still held the  assassin's  wrist  in  one  hand, and the gash along his ribs flowed red. He looked around at them, bewildered. Suddenly, a terrible  keening noise rose up from him.

Ali  didn't  expect  that.  'Ike?'  she  said  from  the  ring  of  onlookers.  No  one  dared  go

closer.

Ali  stepped  out  from  the  circle  and  went  to  him.  'Stop  it,'  she   said.  They   had depended  on  his  strength  for  so  long  that  his  frailty  endangered  them.  Before  their eyes,  he was coming undone.

He looked at her, then fled.

'What was that all about?' someone muttered.

For  lack  of  shovels,  they  drifted  the  bodies  out  into  the  river.  Many  hours  later,  two more cylinders were  lowered to them, each filled with cargo. They  ate. Helios had  sent them  a  feast  for  a  hundred  people:  smoked  rainbow  trout,  veal  in  cognac,  cheese fondue,  and  a  dozen  different  kinds  of  bread,  sausages,  pasta,  and  fruit.  The  crisp green lettuce in the salad  brought  tears  of  joy.  It  was,  said  a  note,  meant  to  celebrate C.C.  Cooper's  birthday.  Ali  suspected  otherwise.  Ike  was  meant  to  be  dead,  and  this banquet was in effect a wake.

The  attempt  on  Ike's  life  had  no  explanation  or  context  or  justice.  What  made  it  all the   more   irrational   was   that   Ike   was   their   most   valued   member.   Even   the mercenaries  would  have  voted  for  him.  With  him  as  scout,  they  had  felt  like  the Chosen  People,  destined  to  exit  the  wilderness  on  the  heels  of  their  tattooed  Moses. But now he had been labeled a traitor, and was inexplicably marked  for death.

The   communications  cable  to  the   surface   had  been   fried   by   the   magma  zone overhead,  and  so  the  expedition  had  only  conjecture  and  superstition  to  fall  back upon. In  a  way  they  all  felt  targeted,  for  in  their  experience  Ike  had  been  the  best  of men,  and  he  was  being  punished  for  sins  they  had  never  known.  It  felt  as  though  a great  storm  had  opened  upon  them.  The  group's  response  was  a  little  worry,  then  a lot of denial and bravado.

'It was a matter  of time,' said Spurrier. 'Ike  was going to  come  unwrapped  sooner  or later. You could see it coming. I'm surprised he held up this long.'

'What does that have  to do with anything?' Ali snapped.

'I'm  not  saying  he  brought  it  down  on  himself.  But  the  man's  definitely  in  torment. He's got more ghosts than a graveyard.'

'What  do  you  do  to  get  the  U.S.  Army  on  your  case?'  Quigley,  the  psychiatrist, wondered.  'I  mean  that  was  a  suicide  mission.  They  don't  throw  good  men  away  on nothing.'

'And  that  "Judas"  stuff?  I  thought  once  the  court-martial  was  over,  they  were finished with you. Talk  about bad luck. The  guy's a born outcast.'

'It's like the whole world's against him.'

'Don't  worry  about  him,  Ali,'  said  Pia,  for  whom  love  had  come  in  the  form  of

Spurrier. 'He'll be back.'

'I'm  not  so  sure,'  Ali  said.  She  wanted  to  blame  Shoat  or  Walker,  but  they  seemed genuinely  disoriented  by  the  incident.  If  Helios  had  meant  to  kill  Ike,  why  not  use their  own  agents?  Why  involve  the  U.S.  Army?  And  why  would  the  Army  involve itself with doing Helios' bidding? It  made no sense.

While  the  rest  slept,  Ali  walked  from  the  light  of  their  camp.  Ike  had  not  taken  his kayak  or his  shotgun,  so  she  searched  on  foot  with  her  flashlight.  His  footprints  loped along the bank's mud.