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Every   week   the   mass   of   3-D,   four-color   worm   lines   expanded   laterally   and vertically  beneath  their  maps  of  Europe  and  Asia  and  the   United  States.   Junior officers  took  to  comparing  the  adventure  to  Dungeons  and  Dragons  without,  exactly, the  dragons  or  dungeons.  Wrinkled  noncoms  couldn't  believe  their  luck:  Vietnam without  the  Vietnamese.  The  enemy  was  turning  out  to  be  a  figment  of  one  very disfigured  major's  imagination.  No  one  but  Branch  could  claim  to  have  seen  demons with fish-white skin.

Not that there  weren't  'enemies.' The  signs of  habitation  were  intriguing,  sometimes gruesome.   At   those   depths,   tracks   suggested   a   surprising   spectrum   of   species, everything  from  centipedes  and  fish  to  a  human-sized  biped.  One  leathery   wing fragment  stirred  images  of  subterannean  flight,  temporarily  reviving  Saint  Jerome's visions of batlike dark angels.

In  the  absence  of  an  actual  specimen,  scientists   had  named  the   enemy   Homo hadalis, though  they  were  the  first  to  admit  they  didn't  know  if  it  was  even  hominid. The  secular  term  became  hadal,  rhyming  with  cradle.  Middens  indicated  that  these ape  creatures  were  communal,  if  seminomadic.  A  picture  of  harsh,  grinding,  sunless subsistence  emerged.  It  made  the  brute  life  of  human  peasantry  look  charming  by comparison.

But  whoever  lived  down  here  –  and  the  evidence  of  primitive  occupation  at  the deeper  levels was undeniable  –  had  been  scared  off.  They  encountered  no  resistance. No  contact.  No  live  sightings.  Just  lots  of  caveman  souvenirs:  knapped  flint  points, carved  animal  bones,  cave  paintings,  and  piles  of  trinkets  stolen  from  the  surface: broken pencils, empty  Coke cans and beer  bottles,  dead  spark  plugs,  coins,  lightbulbs. Their cowardice  was  officially  excused  as  an  aversion  to  light.  Troops  couldn't  wait  to engage them.

The  military  occupation  went  deeper  and  wider  in  breathless  secrecy.  Intelligence agencies  triumphed  in  embargoing  soldiers'  mail  home,  confining  units  to  base,  and derailing the media.

The  military exploration entered  its tenth month. It  seemed  that the new world  was empty  after  all,  and  that  the  nation-states  had  only  to  settle  into  their  basements, catalog  their   holdings,  and  fine-tune   new   sub-borders.   The   conquest   became   a downright  promenade.  Branch  kept  urging  caution.  But  soldiers  quit  carrying  their weapons.  Patrols  resembled  picnics  or  arrowhead  hunts.  There  were  a  few  broken bones, a few bat bites. Every  now and then a ceiling collapsed or someone  drove  off  an

abyssal  roadway.  Overall,  however,  safety  stats  were  actually  better  than  normal. Keep your  guard up, Branch preached  to  his  Rangers.  But  he  had  begun  to  sound  like a nag, even  to himself.

The  hammer  dropped.  Beginning  on  November  24,  1999,  soldiers  throughout  the subplanet  did  not  return  to  their  cave  camps.  Search  parties  were  sent  down.  Few came out. Carefully laid communications lines went dead. Tunnels collapsed.

It  was as if the entire subplanet had flushed the toilet. From Norway  to Bolivia, from Australia to Labrador, from wilderness  bases  to  within  thirty  feet  of  sunshine,  armies vanished. Later  it  would  be  called  a  decimation,  which  means  the  death  of  one  in  ten. What happened on November  24 was its opposite. Fewer  than one  of  every  ten  would survive.

It  was the oldest trick in the history of warfare.  You  lull  your  enemy.  You  draw  him in. You cut off his head. Literally.

A  tunnel  at  minus-six  in  sub-Poland  was  found  with  the  skulls  of  three  thousand Russian,  German,  and  British  NATO  troops.  Eight  teams  of  LRRPs  and  Navy  SEALs were  found  crucified  in  a  cavern  nine  thousand  feet  beneath  Crete.  They  had  been captured alive at scattered  sites, herded together,  and tortured  to death.

Random   slaughter   was   one   thing.   This   was   something   else.   Clearly   a   larger intelligence  was  at  work.  System-wide,  the  acts  were  planned  and  executed  upon  a single   clockwork   command.   Someone   –   or   some   group   –   had   orchestrated   a magnificent slaughter over  a twenty-thousand-square-mile  region.

It  was as if a race of aliens had just breached upon man's shores.

Branch lived, but only because he was  laid  up  with  a  recurring  malarial  fever.  While his troops  forged  deeper  below  the  surface,  he  lay  in  an  infirmary,  packed  in  ice  bags and  hallucinating.  He  thought  it  was  his  delirium  speaking  as  CNN  broke  the  terrible news.

Half  raving,  Branch  watched  his  President  address  the  nation  in  prime  time  on December  2.  No  makeup  tonight.  He  had  been  weeping.  'My  fellow  Americans,'  he announced.  'It  is  my  painful  duty...'  In  somber  tones  the  patriarch  enunciated  the American  military  losses  incurred  over  the  past  week:  in  all,  29,543  missing.  The worst  was  feared.  In  the  course  of  three  terrible  days,  the  United  States  had  just suffered half as many  American  dead  as  the  entire  Vietnam  War  total.  He  avoided  all mention  of  the  global  military  toll,  an  unbelievable  quarter  of  a  million  soldiers.  He paused.  He  cleared  his  throat  uncomfortably,  shuffled  papers,  then  pushed   them aside.

'Hell  exists.'  He  lifted  his  chin.  'It  is  real.  A  geological,  historical  place  beneath  our very  feet. And  it  is  inhabited.  Savagely.'  His  lips  thinned.  'Savagely,'  he  repeated,  and for a moment you could see his great  anger.

'For  the  last  year,  in  consultation  and  alliance  with  other  nations,  the  United  States has  initiated  a  systematic   reconnaisance  of  the   edges   of  this  vast   subterranean territory.  At  my  command,  43,000  American  military  personnel  were  committed  to searching  this  place.  Our  probe  into  this  frontier  revealed  that  it  is  inhabited  by unknown  life-forms.  There  is  nothing  supernatural  about  it.  Over  the  next  days  and weeks  you  will  probably  be  asking  how  it  is  that  if  there  are  beings  down  there,  we have  never  seen  them  before  now.  The  answer  is  this:  we  have  seen  them.  From  the beginning  of  human  time,  we  have  suspected  their  presence  among  us.  We  have feared  them,  written  poems  about  them,  built  religions  against  them.   Until  very recently,  we did not know how  much  we  really  knew.  Now  we  are  learning  how  much we  don't  know.  Until  several  days  ago,  it  was  assumed  these  creatures  were  either extinct or had retreated  from our military advance. We know differently now.'

The  President  stopped  talking.  The   cameraman   started   back   for  the   fade-out. Suddenly  he  began  again.  'Make  no  mistake,'  he  said.  'We  will  seize  this  dark  empire.

We will beat  this ancient enemy.  We will loose our terrible  swift sword upon  the  forces of darkness. And we will prevail. In the name of God and freedom, we will.'