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big fur Khampa cap he'd bought from a nomad in Shekar. His black eye was buried

behind glacier glasses. 'We're getting up there.'

'No excuses,' Robby threw in, gasping along with the others. 'You are getting old,

Kelly. Especially for a woman.' Kelly delighted in having her beauty deflated, but no

one else was particularly amused. They were too tired.

'It's only a little more,' Daniel told them. As if to confirm him, some of the yak

caravan appeared, wending its way back down to Base Camp. Unburdened of their

loads and with gravity helping them along, the yaks and their herders were practically

running downhill. Their rapid descent made Abe feel that much slower.

Soon the afternoon winds began. The trail's corridor funneled blasts straight down

into their faces. Without breaking stride, Abe zipped his jacket closed to the throat

and fished some thin polypro gloves from a pocket. They wound through the

convolutions.

Abruptly, as if bobbing to the sea's surface after a deep dive, they emerged onto a

flat mesa, perhaps an acre wide.

And suddenly the whole earth just halted. And so did Abe.

With no warning, the gigantic gleaming body of Everest was rearing up in front of

them. They had lost sight of it for three days and now it jutted one and a half miles

above them, stabbing into the jetstream. Its curtains of afternoon light hung before

them like a dream.

At first the mountain distracted all attention from ABC, which lay in shadow at the

back of the mesa. The mesa was butted snugly against a soaring rock wall, and the

wall had shed copious piles of limestone down onto it. Including Daniel's pioneering

attempt six years ago, theirs was the fourth expedition to make camp on top of the

rubble.

Low-slung and mean, the camp had the lean, breathless look of a battlefield

headquarters. In effect, ABC robbed Base Camp of its function. From here on most of

the assault would be supplied and coordinated from ABC. Earlier expeditions had piled

rocks into semicircular walls to cut the wind, and the faster moving Sherpas had

erected tents in steps among the rubble, one above the other. Someone – probably

Nima, trying to make them feel comfortable – had attached one of their twelve-inch

American flags for the summit to a bamboo wand and wedged it among the rock.

Bright blue and yellow tarps covered a small stockpile of food and equipment, and

yaks and herders were wandering around.

The closer Abe got, the uglier the camp appeared. It seemed to squat in the

shadows beneath the rearing prow of white and black stone. Above ABC the mountain

didn't get just steep, it got vertical. This close, Abe couldn't see the top of the stone

wall and all of the mountain's other features vanished. He knew the wall was just one

more piece of the puzzle, though from here the Kore Wall seemed to stretch all the

way to the sky. Had he been the first to arrive here – had he been Daniel ten years

ago – he would have pronounced the route inconceivable and turned around.

Nima and Sonam were laboring among the rock, heaving chunks atop new walls,

building new spaces for more tents. Sonam nudged his sirdar, or boss, and pointed at

Abe, and Nima descended goatlike from the rubble to greet him.

'Oh, hello, sir.' Except for his bright Gore-Tex climbing uniform, Nima might have

been one of the yakherders. His cheekbones stood like fists, and his short city-cut had

grown wild and the black hair was below his ears.

'You are coming onto the mountain now,' Nima said. He was smiling.

'Yes, here I am,' Abe acknowledged. He was feeling nauseous and hitched his pack

higher on his shoulders, mostly for effect. He wanted to sit down. No, that wasn't true,

he wanted to lie down.

Nima wanted to talk. 'The mountain is very strong.'

'Yes, very impressive.'

Nima finally got around to his question. 'This yakherder in Base is all better now?'

Abe had forgotten all about the Tibetan boy. For a brief few days, he'd even

forgotten he was the team's archangel and had thought of himself as simply one of the

climbers. To an extent that Abe could not help but appreciate – for it let him be

something other than a doctor – they had begun replacing science with superstition.

Some had taken to refusing all medicine, relying instead on their crystals and vitamins

and herbs. Others had become alchemists, mixing cocktails of Halcion for sleep with

Diamox for respiration with codeine for coughing and aspirin for thinning their blood.

And J.J., of course, had his steroids. There was no thwarting them, so Abe didn't try.

There was no escaping duty, though.

'Nothing's changed, Nima. I checked him before I left Base Camp.' He didn't want to

raise any false hopes by explaining the subtle improvements. And besides, his nausea

was crawling up.

'But medicine, sir.'

Abe belched and swallowed. He wanted to be irritated, but that required too much

vigor. He had mounted to almost 22,000 feet on the mountain of his dreams, and his

only welcome was to be pestered about an epileptic yakkie in a coma? 'I did what I

could,' he said.

'Yes, sir,' Nima said.

Next to one of the empty tents, Abe backed against a rock and nestled down his

pack with a bovine groan. He unharnessed himself from the shoulder straps and

waistband and slumped forward, breathing deeply. One of the other Sherpas brought

over a cup of tea and just the fumes helped restore him. He drank and felt better. ABC

was a bleak place made all the bleaker because it lay in the very palm of the

mountain. Night was coming on and alpenglow had turned Everest into a vast crimson

spike. Its plume of red snow reached out for the plunging sun. Abe noticed that

everyone else seemed to be ignoring the mountain with a business-as-usual

nonchalance. He was alone in relishing the spectacle.

Everest didn't just overshadow ABC, it towered above. It utterly dominated the

land. Time and space had frozen tight here. The earth had stopped. As in Ptolemy's

scheme, the sun seemed to orbit this point. Here was the center.

From the outset Abe had imagined that this expedition was going to be a great

collective memory, one that he and his comrades would each harken back to in their

old age. Forever after, it would warm them on cold days, strengthen them, give them

an epic poetry to tell their grandchildren. Back in Boulder, Abe had lain awake beside

Jamie at night and stared up through the skylight, telling himself stories about how he

was going to climb a great mountain. But now, faced with actually ascending into this

pure light, his only thought was 'how absurd.'

'Doc?' Kelly was standing beside him, hunched beneath her big blue pack. For the

first time, Abe noticed a monarch butterfly she had embroidered onto the side pocket,

an iridescent creature that would have died within minutes up here. He wondered

what the yakherders thought of it, if they even associated it with reality.

'Is that your tent, Doc?'

Abe looked around at the other tents, already filling with people. 'Yeah, I guess,' he

said.

'You got a bunkie?'

Was this the beginning of what Thomas had warned him against? Abe hesitated, less

out of loyalty to Jamie than disappointment. Kelly obviously thought him safe to share

quarters with, and part of him didn't want to seem too safe to her. Even with her hair