The Descent

At  the  end  of  five  days,  Ali  and  Thomas  had  excavated  alphabets  no  linguist  had ever  seen.  Stepping  back  from  their  work,  it  was  obvious  to  Ali  they'd  barely  made  a dent  in  the  heaped  writings.  Here  lay  the  beginnings  of  all  literature,  all  history.  In  a sense, it promised to contain the beginnings  of  memory,  human  and  hadal  both.  What might lie at its center?

'We  need  to  rest.  We  need  to  pace  ourselves,'  Thomas  cautioned.  He  had  a  bad cough. Ali helped him to his corner, and forced herself to sit, too. But she was excited.

'Ike  told  me  once,  the  hadals  want  to  be  like  us,'  she  said.  'But  they're  already  like us.  And  we're  like  them.  This  is  the  key  to  their  Eden.  It  won't  give  them  back  their ancient  regime.  But  it  can  bind  them,  and  give  them  concordance  as  a  people.  It  can bridge the gap between  them and us. This is the  beginning  of  their  return  to  the  light. Or  at  least  of  the  sovereignty  of  their  race.  Maybe  we  can  find  a  mutual  language. Maybe  we  can  make  a  place  for  them  among  us.  Or  they  can  make  a  place  for  us among them. But it all starts  here.'

The  torture  of  Walker's  men  began.  Their  screams  drifted  up  to  Ali  and  Thomas. Periodically  the  sounds  tapered  off.  After  a  night  of  silence,  Ali  was  certain  the  men had died. But then the screaming  started  again.  With  pauses,  it  would  go  on  for  many days.

Before they  could continue their scholarship, Ali and Thomas received  a visitor. 'He's the one I told you about,' she whispered to him. 'He leads them, I think.'

'You might be right about him,' Thomas said. 'But what does he want with us?'

The  monster approached with a plastic tube marked HELIOS. It  was badly  scratched. Ali immediately recognized her map case. He went directly  to her, and  she  could  smell fresh  blood  on  him.  His  feet  were  bare.  He  shook  out  the  roll  of  maps  and  opened them. 'These  came into my  possession,' he said in his crisp English.

Ali  wanted  to  ask  how,  but  thought  better  of  it.  Obviously,  Gitner  and  his  band  of scientists had failed to escape. 'They're  mine,' she said.

'Yes, I know. The  soldiers told me. Also, I've  studied  the  maps,  and  your  authorship is  clear.  Unfortunately  they're  not  real  maps,  but  only  your  approximation  of  things. They  show  how  your  expedition  proceeded  in  general.  I  need  more.  Details.  Detours. Side  trips.  Diversions.  And  camps,  every  camp,  every  night.  Who  was  in  them,  who wasn't.  I  need  everything.  You  have  to  re-create  the  entire  expedition  for  me.  It's crucial.'

Ali  glanced  at  Thomas,  fearful.  How  could  she  possibly  remember  it  all?  'I  can  try,'

she said.

'Try?'  The  monster  was  smelling  her.  'But  your  very  existence  depends  on  your

memory. I would do more than try.'

Thomas stepped  forward. 'I'll help her,' he volunteered.

'Help her quickly, then,' the monster said. 'Now your  life depends on it, too.'

On February  11,  at  1420  hours  and  9,856  fathoms,  they  reached  a  cliff  overlooking  a valley.  It  was not the bottom of the pit; you could see a gaping hole in  the  far  distance. But it was a geological pause in that abyss  they  had been following.

Before she tried again to martyr  herself, Ike  tied his  nameless  daughter  to  a  horn  of rock along the wall. Then he flopped on his stomach along the edge to get a view  of  the land and sort through his options.

It  had  the  shape  and  size  of  a  crater,  lit  with  a  sienna  gloom.  Veins  of  luminous minerals spidered through the encircling walls, and the fog was lambent, flickering  like tongues.  He  could  make  out  the  architecture  of  this  enormous  hollow,  two  or  three miles across, and its honeycombed walls and the vast,  intricate city it cupped.

Five  hundred meters  beneath his perch,  the  city  occupied  the  entire  floor.  It  was  at once  magnificent  and  destitute.  From  this  height  he  could  clearly   see   the   whole obsolete metropolis.

Spires and pyramids stood  in  ruins.  In  the  distance,  one  or  two  towering  structures rose  nearly  as  high  as  the  rim,  though  their  tops  had  crumbled  away.  Canals  had harrowed  the  avenues  deep,  carving  meandering  canyons.  Much  was  in  collapse  or flooded  or  had  been  overrun  with  flowstone.  Several  giant  stalactites  had  grown  so heavy  they  had fallen from the invisible ceiling and speared  buildings.