The Descent

A photograph flashed  on  the  screen.  It  showed  a  medical  release  form.  Sandwell  let them have  a minute with it. There  was a doctor's name and address at the  top.  And  at the bottom, a plain signature. Sandwell read it aloud: 'Dwight D. Crockett.'

'Shit,' grunted one of the commanders.

Branch was stubborn in his loyalty.  'I dispute your  proof.'

'I know this is difficult,' Sandwell said to him.

Men  stirred  uneasily,  January  noticed.  Later  she  would  learn  that  Ike  had  taught many of them, saved  some of them.

'It's  imperative  that  we  find  this  traitor,'  Sandwell  told  them.  'Ike  has  just  made himself the most wanted man on earth.'

January raised her voice. 'Let me understand,' she said. 'The only person immune  to this plague, today, is the man who is planting it?'

'Affirmative, Senator,' Sandwell  said.  'But  not  for  long.  In  order  to  contain  the  prion release, we've  closed the entire ClipGal corridor with explosives.  We're  evacuating  the subplanet  within  a  two-hundred-mile  radius,  including  Nazca  City.  No  one  goes  back in  again  until  they  get  vaccinated.  We  start  with  you,  gentlemen.  We  have  medics waiting  for  you  in  the  next  room.  Senator,  and  Father  Thomas,  you're  both  welcome

to be vaccinated too.'

Before January could decline, Thomas accepted. He glanced at her. 'In case,' he said. A  map  filled  the  screen.  It  zoomed  in  on  a  vein  within  the  earth.  'This  is  the  Helios expedition's projected trajectory,'  the general continued.  'There's  probably  no  way  we can catch them from behind, meaning we  have  to  intercept  them  from  the  side  or  the front.  The  problem  is,  we  know  where  they've  been,  but  not  exactly  where  they're going.

'The  Helios  cartel  has  agreed  to  share  information  about  the  expedition's  projected course.   Over   the   next   months,   we'll   be   working   closely   with   their   mapping department  to try  to pinpoint the explorers.  Meanwhile, we hunt.'

'We're  going  to  commit  all  possible  assets.  I  want  squads  sent  out.  Exit   points covered. We'll flush him out. We'll lay traps. We'll wait for him.  And  when  he's  located, you're  to  shoot  him  dead.  On  sight.  That  order  comes  from  the  top.  I  repeat,  kill  on sight. Before this renegade can kill us.'

Sandwell faced them. 'Now is the time to ask yourselves,  is  there  any  man  here  who cannot deal with the mission as described?'

He  was  asking  one  man  alone.  They  all  knew  it.  Their  silence  waited  for  Branch  to recuse himself. He did not.

New Guinea

The  phone  call  at  0330  woke  Branch  in  his  berth.  He  slept  little  anyway.  Two  days had  passed  since  the  commanders  had  returned  to  their  bases  and  begun  harrowing the depths to find Ike.  Branch, however,  was assigned to mission control at  SouthPac's New Guinea headquarters.  It  had been dressed  up as a humanitarian gesture,  but was fundamentally a way  to neutralize him. They  wanted Branch's insights into  their  prey, but did not trust  him to kill Ike.  He didn't blame them.

'Major Branch,' a voice said on the phone. 'This is Father  Thomas.'

Ever   since  the   briefing,  Branch  had  been   expecting   a   call   from   January.   His connection was with her, not  with  her  Jesuit  confidant.  He'd  been  surprised  when  the senator  brought  the  man  to  their  Antarctic  meeting,  and  was  not  pleased  to  hear  his voice. 'How did you find me?' he asked.

'January.'

'This probably isn't the best  phone line to be using,' Branch rankled. Thomas disregarded him. 'I have  information about your  soldier Crockett.' Branch waited.

'Someone is using our friend.'

Our friend? thought Branch.

'I've  just returned  from visiting the physician who administered the vaccine.' Branch listened. Hard.

'I showed him a photo of Mr Crockett.'

Branch screwed  the phone tighter against his ear.

'I  think  we  can  agree  he  has  a  rather  distinctive  look.  But  the  physician  had  never seen Crockett  in his life. Someone forged his signature. Someone posed as him.'

Branch eased his grip. 'Is it Walker then?' That  had been his first suspicion.

'No,'  said  Thomas.  'I  showed  him  Walker's  photo.  And  photos  of  each  of  his  hired gunmen. The  physician was adamant. It  was none of them.'

'Then who?'

'I  don't  know.  But  something  isn't  right  here.  I'm  trying  to  obtain  photos  of  all  the expedition   members   to   show   him.   The   Helios   corporation   is   proving   less   than accommodating.  In  fact,  the  Helios  representative  told  me  there's  officially  no  such expedition.'

Branch made himself sit on the edge  of  the  fiberglass  bed  rack.  It  was  difficult  to  be

calm.  What  was  this  priest's  game?  Why  was  he  playing  detective  with  an  Army physician?  And  placing  phone  calls  in  the  middle  of  the  night  like  this,  trumpeting Ike's  innocence? 'I don't have  photos, either,' said Branch.

'It  occurred  to  me  that  another  source  of  images  might  be  that  video   General

Sandwell played for us. It  seemed  to have  a lot of faces.' So that was it. 'You want me to get it for you.'

'Perhaps the physician could pick his man from the crowd.'

'Then ask Sandwell.'

'I have. He's  no  more  forthcoming  than  the  corporation  itself.  In  fact,  I  suspect  he's something other than what he pretends  to be.'

'I'll see what I can do,' Branch said. He didn't commit himself to the theory.

'Is there  any chance of stopping the search for Crockett,  or at least stalling it?'

'Negative.  Hunter-killer  teams  have  been  inserted.  They're  going  deep,  a  month each. Beyond recall.'

'Then we need to move quickly. Send that video to the senator's office.'

After  he  hung  up,  Branch  sat  in  the  semidarkness.  He  could  smell  himself,  the plasticized flesh, the stink of his doubt. He was useless here.  That  was  their  intent.  He was  supposed  to  stay  quietly  parked  at  the  surface  and  wait  while  they  took  care  of business. Now Branch could not wait.

Obtaining  the  ClipGal  videos  for  the  priest  might  have  its  value.  But  even  if  the physician  put  his  finger  on  the  culprit,  it  was  too  late  to  reverse  Sandwell's  decision. Most  of  the  long-range  patrols  had  already  passed  beyond  communication.  Every hour put them deeper  into the stone.

Branch  got  to  his  feet.  No  more  hesitation.  He  had  a  duty.  To  himself.  To  Ike,  who had no way  to know what they  had in mind for him.

Branch stripped off his uniform. It  was like taking off his  own  skin;  it  could  never  be put on again after  this.

What  a  peculiar  thing  a  life  was.  Nearly  fifty-two,  he  had  spent  more  than  three decades  with  the  Army.  What  he  was  about  to  do  should  have  seemed  more  difficult than  this.  Perhaps  his  fellow  officers  would  understand  and  forgive  him  this  excess. Maybe  they'd  just think he'd finally gone off his nut. Freedom was like that.

Naked,  he  faced  the  mirror,  a  dark  stain  upon  the  dark  glass.  His  ruined  flesh glistened  like  a  pitted  gem.  He  was  sorry,  suddenly,  never  to  have  had  a  wife  or children. It  would have  been nice to  leave  a  letter  for  someone,  a  last  phone  message. Instead  he had this terrible  companion, a broken statue  in his looking glass.