The Descent

There  had  never  been  such  pure  golden  light  in  this  benighted  cavity.  For  the  first time  in  160  million  years,  the  chamber  became  visible  in  its  entirety;  and  it  was  like the inside of a womb, with the matrix  of stress  fractures  for veins.

Ali  got  one  good  look,  then  closed  her  eyes  to  the  heat.  In  her  mind,  she  imagined Ike  sitting in the raft across from  her,  wearing  a  vast  grin  while  the  pyre  reflected  off the lenses of his glacier glasses. That  put a smile on her  face.  In  death,  he  had  become the light. Then the darkness  heaved  in again, and the figure was not Ike  but  this  other mutilated being, and Ali was more afraid than ever.

Here I stand; I can do no other. God help me. Amen.

– MARTIN LUTHER, Speech at the Diet of Worms

26

THE PIT

Beneath the Yap and Palau Trenches

She  had  been  stalking  him  for  two  days,  gaining  insights  as  long  and  winding  as  the trail  into  the  great  pit.  The  human  was  limping.  He  had  a  wound,  possibly  several. Time and again he exhibited fear.

Was  he  in  true  flight  or  not,  though?  She  didn't  know  this  human  well.  In  the  brief moments  she'd  seen  him  in  action,  he'd  seemed  more  adept  than  the  others.  But outwardly  he  appeared  to  be  wearing  down.  The  tortuous  path  was  catching  up  with her, too.

She  licked  the  wall  where  he  had  leaned,  and  his  taste  quickened  her  decision.  She still  lacked  information,  but  was  hungry,  and  his  salt  and  meat  were  suddenly  too tempting. She gave  in to her stomach. It  was time to  make  the  kill.  She  began  to  close the gap.

It  took  another  day  of  careful  pursuit.  She  nursed  their  distance,  careful  not  to startle  him. There  were  too many hunter tales of animals taking fright and bolting into some  abyss,  never  to  be  retrieved.  Also,  she  didn't  want  to  run  him  any  more  than necessary.  That  wasted  the  energy  in  his  flesh,  and  already  she  considered  his  flesh hers.

Finally they  reached a squeeze, where  boulders  had  all  but  choked  the  passage.  She saw him puzzling over  the jumble of stone, watched him spy  the  hole  near  his  feet.  He

got  down  and  wormed  into  the  pass.  She  darted  forward  to  hamstring  him  while  his legs were  still exposed. As if anticipating  her,  he  drew  his  legs  in  quickly.  She  lowered the knife and squatted  down, waiting while his sounds diminished as he went deeper. At last it grew  quiet in there,  and  she  knelt  and  thrust  herself  into  the  opening.  The stone  felt  slightly  soapy  and  amphibian  from  so  many  bodies,  hadal  and  animal, slithering through.  She  prided  herself  for  being  nearly  as  quick  horizontally  as  on  her feet. In childhood races through such narrow passages, she had usually won.

The  squeeze  passage  was  longer  than  she'd  thought,  though  not  as  long  as  some, which could go on for days.  There  were  legends  about  those,  too.  And  ghost  stories,  of whole tribes  snaking their way  into a thin vein, one behind the other, only to reach  the feet  of  a  skeleton  that  bottle-necked  the  tunnel.  She  had  no  qualms  about  this  one: there  was too much fresh animal smell for it to be a cul-de-sac.

The  passage tightened, and there  was an awkward  kink sideways  and up.  It  was  the kind  of  bend  that  took  a  contortionist  shift.  Every  now  and  then  she'd  encountered these puzzles, where  your  knees or shoulders might pop out of joint if the move  wasn't carefully rehearsed.  She  was  limber  and  small,  and  even  so  it  took  two  false  starts  to decipher  the  move.  She  torqued  through  on  her  back,  surprised  that  the  larger  man had made it through with such facility.

She emerged, knife first.

She  was  just  clambering  to  her  feet  when  he  stepped  from  behind.  He  dropped  a rope  around  her  throat  and  pulled.  She  slashed  backward,  but  he  kneed  her  in  the spine  and  that  flattened  her.  He  was  fast  and  strong,  noosing  her  wrists  and  elbows and cinching the rope tight.

The  capture  took  ten  seconds.  It  was  accomplished  in  complete  silence.  Only  now did she realize who had been stalking whom. The  limp, the awkward  visibility, the fear

– all  a  ploy.  He'd  offered  himself  as  a  weakling,  and  she'd  fallen  for  it.  She  started  to screech  her  outrage,  only  to  taste  the  rope  across  her  tongue  as  he  finished  gagging and trussing her.