The Descent

Nude, she felt the warmth  of the lamps on her flesh. From the corner of her  eye,  she saw the light from twenty  eons ago turn her into gold.

As  they  moved  into  each  other,  she  thought  that  here  was  one  hunger  at  least  that no longer had to go begging.

Chelsea's scream woke them.

It  had become her habit to wash her hair at the edge of the sea early  each morning.

'Another  fish  in  the  water,'  Ali  murmured  to  Ike.  She  had  been  dreaming  of  orange juice  and  birdsong  –  a   mourning   dove   –   and   the   smell   of   oak   smoke   on   the hill-country air. Ike's  arms fit around her just so.  It  was  a  shame  to  spoil  the  new  day with a false alarm.

Then more shouts rose up to them in the tower.  Ike  lifted  from  the  floor  and  leaned out  the  window,  his  back  dented  and  pockmarked  and  striped  with  text  and  images and old violence.

'Something's happened,' he said, and grabbed his clothes and knife.

Ali followed him  down  the  stairs,  the  last  to  reach  the  group  gathered  on  the  shore. They  were  shivering. It  wasn't cold,  but  they  had  less  fat  on  them  these  days.  'Here's Ike,' someone said, and the group parted.

A body was floating upon the sea. It  lay there  as quiet as the water.

'It's not hadal,' Spurrier  was saying.

'He was a big guy,' said Ruiz. 'Could he be one of Walker's soldiers?'

'Walker?' said Twiggs. 'Here?'

'Maybe  he fell off one of the rafts  and drowned. And then floated here.'

He  had  glided  in  to  shore  like  a  ship  with  no  crew,  headfirst,  faceup,  bleached  dead white by  the sea. His limp arms wafted in the current. The  eyes  were  gone.

'I  thought  it  was  driftwood  and  started  out  to  get  it,'  Chelsea  said.  'Then  it  got closer.'

Ike  waded  into  the  water  and  hunched  over  the  body  with  his  back  to  them.  Ali thought she saw the glint of his knife.  After  a  minute  he  returned  to  them,  towing  the body.

'It's one of Walker's, all right,' he said.

'A coincidence,' said Ruiz. 'He was bound to drift ashore somewhere.'

'Here,  though,  of  all  places?  You'd  think  he  would  have  sunk.  Or  rotted.  Or  been eaten.'

'He's been preserved,'  Ike  said.

Ali  saw  what  the  others  seemed  not  to  see,  an  incision  in  one  of  the  man's  thighs where  Ike  had probed.

'You mean something in the water?'  said Pia.

'No,' Ike  said. 'They  did it some other way.'

'The hadals?' said Ruiz.

'Yes,' Ike  said.

'The currents. Chance...'

'He was delivered  to us.'

The  group needed a long minute to absorb the fact.

'But why?'  asked Troy.

'It must be a warning,' Twiggs said.

'They're  telling us to go home?' Ruiz laughed.

'You don't understand,' Ike  quietly told them. 'It's an offering.'

'They're  making a sacrifice to us?'

'I  guess  if  you  want  to  put  it  that  way,'  Ike  said.  'They  could  have  eaten  him

themselves.' They  fell silent.

'They're  giving us a dead man for food?' whimpered Pia. 'To eat?'

'The question is why,' Ike  said, staring across the dark sea. Twiggs was affronted. 'They  think we're  cannibals?'

'They  think we probably want to live.'

Ike  did  a  horrible  thing.  He  did  not  push  the  body  back  out  to  sea.  Instead  he waited.

'What are you waiting for?' Twiggs demanded. 'Get  rid of it.' Ike  didn't say  anything. He just waited some more.

It  was appalling, the temptation.

Finally Ruiz said, 'You've  misjudged us, Ike.'

'Don't insult us,' Twiggs said.

Ike  ignored  him.  He  waited  for  the  group.  Another  minute  passed.  They  glared  at him. Nobody wanted to  say  yes  and  nobody  wanted  to  say  no,  and  he  wasn't  going  to say  it for them. Even Ali did not reject the idea out of hand.

Ike  was patient. The  dead soldier bobbed slightly beside him. He was patient, too. They  were  all  thinking  similar  thoughts,  she  was  sure,  wondering  what  it  would taste  like and how long it would last and who would do the deed. In the  end,  Ali  took  it one step  further,  and that was their answer. 'We could eat him,' she said. 'But  when  he was finished, what then?'

Ike  sighed.

'Exactly,' said Pia after  a few seconds.

Ruiz and Spurrier  closed their eyes.  Troy  shook his head ever  so slightly.

'Thank heavens,' said Twiggs.

They  languished  in  the  fortress,  too  weak  to  do  much  except  shuffle  outside  to  pee. They  shifted  about  on  their  sleeping  pads.  It  was  not  comfortable,  lying  around  on your own bones.

So  this  is  famine,  thought  Ali.  A  long  wait  for  the  ultimate  poverty.  She  had  always prided  herself  on  her  gift  for  transcending  the  moment.  You  gave  up  your  worldly attachments, but always  with the  knowledge  you  could  return  to  them.  There  was  no such thing with starving. Deprivation was monotonous.