The Descent

'That's  the  third  this  month,'  said  Parsifal.  'One  in  the  Urals.  Another  beneath  the

Yucatán.'

'Meek   as   lambs,'   said   de   l'Orme,   'chanting   in   unison.   Like   pilgrims   entering

Jerusalem.'

'What a notion.'

'You'd  think  it  would  be  much  safer  to  go  deeper.  Away  from  us.  It's  almost  as  if they  were  afraid  of  the  depths  beneath  them.  As  afraid  as  we  are  of  the  depths

beneath us.'

'Let's begin,' said Thomas.

They  had  been  waiting  a  long  time  to  synthesize  their  information.  At  last  it  began, knives            in                 hand,               grapes      flying.      It      started      cautiously,      with      a show-me-yours-and-I'll-show-you-mine  prudence.  In  no  time,  the  exchange  turned into  a  highly  democratic  free-for-all.  They  psychoanalyzed  Satan  with  the  vigor  of freshmen. The  clues led off in a dozen directions. They  knew better,  but could not help egging on the wild theories with wilder theories of their own.

'I'm  so  relieved,'  Mustafah  admitted.  'I  thought  I  was  the  only  one  coming  to  these extraordinary  conclusions.'

'We should stick to what we know,' Foley prudishly reminded them.

'Okay,' said Vera.  And it only got wilder.

He  was  a  he,  they  agreed.  Except  for  the  four-thousand-year-old  Sumerian  tale  of Queen  Ereshkigal,  or  Allatu  in  the  Assyrian,  the  monarch  of  the  underworld  was mainly  a  masculine  presence.  Even  if  the  contemporary  Satan  proved  to  be  a  council of  leaders,  it  was  likely  to  be  dominated  by  a  masculine  sensibility,  an  urge  toward domination, a willingness to shed blood.

They  extrapolated  from  prevailing  views  of  animal  behavior  about  alpha  males, territorial imperative,  and reproductive  tyranny.  Diplomacy  might  or  might  not  work with  such  a  character.  A  clenched  fist  or  an  empty  threat  would  probably  just  incite him.  The   hadal  leader   would  not  be   stupid:   to  the   contrary,   his  reputation   for deception   and   masks   and   inventiveness   and   cunning   bargains   suggested   real cross-cultural genius.

He  had  the  economic  instincts  of  a  salt  trader,  the  courage  of  a  soloist  crossing  the Arctic. He  was  a  traveler  among  mankind,  conversant  in  human  languages,  a  student of power, an observer  able  to  blend  in  without  notice,  an  adventurer  who  explored  at random or for profit or,  like  the  Beowulf  scholars  and  the  Helios  expedition  who  were exploring his lands, out of scientific curiosity.

His  anonymity  was  a  skill,  an  art,  but  not  infallible.  He  had  never  been  caught.  But he had been sighted. No one knew exactly  what he looked like, which meant he did not look like what people expected.  He probably didn't have  red horns or cloven hooves  or a tail  with  a  spike  at  the  tip.  That  he  could  be  grotesque  or  animalistic  at  times,  and seductive  or  voluptuary  or  even  beautiful   at   other   times,   suggested   a  switch   of disguises or of lieutenants or spies. Or a lineage of Satans.

The  ability  to  transfer  memory  from  one  consciousness  to  another,  now  clinically proven,   was   significant,  said  Mustafah.   Reincarnation   made   possible   a   'dynasty' similar to that  of  the  Dalai  Lama  theocracy.  That  was  a  jolt,  the  notion  of  Satan  as  an ongoing religious monarchy.

'Buddhism with extreme  prejudice,' quipped Parsifal.

'Perhaps,' de l'Orme proposed irreverently,  'Satan would be better  off  just  dying  out and becoming an idea, rather  than  struggling  to  be  a  reality.  By  sniffing  around  man's camp all these  years,  the lion has  degenerated  into  a  hyena.  The  tempest  has  become just a puff of bad wind, a fart in the night.'

Whether  the  literature  and  archaeological  and  linguistic  evidence  were  describing Satan  himself  or  rather  his  lieutenants  and  spies,  the  profile  was  consistent  with  an inquiring  mentality.  No  doubt  about  it,  the  darkness  wanted  to  know  about  the  light. But to know what?  Civilization? The  human condition? The  feel of sunbeams?

'The  more  I  learn  about  hadal  culture,'  Mustafah  said,  'the  more  I  suspect  a  great culture in decline.  It's  as  if  a  collective  intellect  had  developed  Alzheimer's  and  slowly begun to lose its reason.'

'I  think  of  autism,   not  Alzheimer's,'   said   Vera.   'A   vast   onset   of   self-centered presentness.  An  inability  to  recognize  the  outside  world,  and  with  that  an  inability  to create.  Look  at  the  artifacts  coming  up  from  subplanetary  hadal  sites.  Over  the  last