Daniel was the first to strap into his crampons, of course. He alone seemed unaware
that the mountain had entered a new configuration. Six inches of snow wasn't much in
the way of armor, but another storm or two could sheathe the mountain with lethal
defenses. Between Li's deadline and the invading monsoon, they were definitely
running out of time.
Kelly's head appeared from the tent door and she smiled at Abe. Not once through
the night had they disentangled from each other's arms. There had been no more
mention of Kelly's bad dream and Abe had let it drop. It came to mind that maybe his
embrace had exorcised her premonition, and he snorted at the notion. What a journey
that would be, from ambulance cowboy to full-fledged physician to shaman and
exorcist. At this rate he would end his days droning prayers in a Tibetan monastery
cell. It was time to quit believing in his own magic.
Even as he watched her, Kelly gave Abe a surprise. Unfolding her long limbs from
the tent door, she stretched to her full height wearing a skintight, powder blue Nordic
ski racing uniform. It had bold white stripes up each leg to the armpit and down from
her neck to her wrists. Lithe and streamlined, she was spectacular, which Abe already
knew. What really puzzled him was where this outfit could have come from.
But then he looked around and saw that most of the other climbers were emerging
dressed in the same powder blue uniforms. He remembered. It was product
endorsement time and all through camp brand-name costumes were surfacing clean
and new, saved especially for the camera and their summit bid. The uniform looked
Olympian on some, silly on others. Bird legs and chicken breasts stood pronounced,
and Abe was glad no one had remembered to issue him one of the suits. The uniform
had its merit, however. For the first time since Li had undercut their morale, the
climbers had the look of a team bent on tagging the earth's highest point. Shaking the
snow off their equipment, they got to work peopling the Hill once again.
Over the next five days, the climbers took up their positions in the forward camps
and prepared to rush the summit. It was a slow and orderly rush. Spaced a day apart,
they moved up. The weather got no better, but at least it got no worse.
By the end of the fifth day, Abe found himself once more at the cave camp
designated Four. To his delight, the foul weather seemed to have locked the mountain
tight. Not so much as a single rock had bombed the Shooting Gallery all day long. He
took that as a sign of good luck, and told Kelly so at each of their rest stances along the
fixed ropes.
Abe was now as fully acclimatized as he was going to get, with the result that he
actually felt strong as they entered the cave near three o'clock. His last time here with
Daniel and Gus, he had been gasping and hurt, but his rest at lower elevations had
restored him. He was hardly a superman – at 26,500 feet, there was no way not to
gasp for air and his entire being hurt – but he was functioning quite well this time
around, and the idea of going higher was not at all mind-boggling.
Two teams of two – Daniel and Gus, and Stump and J.J. – had stayed here the night
before, then gone on to occupy Five. Someone, probably J.J. judging by the
elementary school scrawl, had left them a note: 'Big E or Bust.'
The plan was for Abe and Kelly's team to spend the night here, then move up to
Five in the morning. They would occupy Five while Daniel and his bunch made its
push to the top and then descended as far as possible. On the day after tomorrow, if
all went well, Abe and Kelly would repeat Daniel's success. Behind them by a day, the
final team of Robby and Thomas waited at Three, poised for their turn to rotate up
and have a crack at the summit. The two men were realistic. If the weather didn't
scotch their summit bid, their sagging health probably would. Thomas had never fully
recovered from his pneumonia, and Robby was suffering through his latest rampage
of diarrhea. Thomas had dubbed Robby and himself the Lost Patrol, astounding them
all. It seemed impossible that Thomas might have a sense of humor.
Jorgens was far below at One. He had 'Four-F'd' himself, bowing out on medical
grounds. In theory he was a support climber in case someone got in trouble above.
But it was no secret that Jorgens was incapable of going much higher and his presence
was strictly as a cheerleader to the rest of them.
And all the way down, with Li for a chess partner, Carlos was manning Base Camp.
The expedition was spread thin over the huge mountain, but this time around they
had the advantage of radio contact. Just being able to hear other voices had given the
various teams more confidence.
The sky stayed dense and leaden. It was so uniformly overcast that no one could
predict the next storm. They hadn't seen the sun in nearly a week, and that was a
mixed blessing. They didn't have to fight the noonday heat, but for the last five days,
everyone had been complaining of a chronic lassitude that made them feel heavy. Abe
was starting to wonder if the change in barometric pressure might be responsible.
Others in the team decided on a different scapegoat.
It was Li's fault, they said. The L.O. had shackled them. He had derailed their
freight-train momentum. They muttered about him and there seemed no doubt in
their minds that he had deliberately sabotaged their morale. Some went so far as to
accuse him of setting them up for failure and humiliation, conjecturing that he must
have hoped the team would just throw in the towel without this last effort. But they
were wrong. Li wanted them up here. On the very eve of their summit assault, they
learned why.
The six o'clock radio call opened routinely. Abe was sitting hunched in the tent with
the cold walkie-talkie in his hands. Kelly was lying behind him in a sleeping bag, most
of her face obscured by an oxygen mask. From here on they would be sleeping on
oxygen, and anyone who wanted to could climb on it, too. His last time here in the
cave with Daniel and Gus, Abe had been so weak and hurt that no amount of oxygen
would have gotten him higher. This time, the oxygen was like a kiss.
In preparation for the radio call, Abe had taken his mask off and poked the antennae
through an unzipped triangle at the top of the door. The cave's position was such that
he could be relatively warm and comfortable inside the tent and receive transmissions
from anywhere on the mountain.
'Five to all camps. It's time for the six o'clock news,' Abe heard. It was Stump's
voice. 'Let's get a head count. Over.'
Each of the teams checked in. Everyone was doing fine. Everyone sounded tired and
excited, especially Stump. 'It's going to be a long night,' he said. 'We got a crowd. Four
people, one tent, over.' His words came slowly, blurring on the edges from the
extreme altitude.
'At least you're snug and warm. Over.' Robby was handling the radio at Three.
Count on him to find the silver lining.
'How's your wind up there, Five? Over.' To his credit, Jorgens had set aside his
wounded pride. He earnestly wanted Daniel and anyone else to reach the top. Abe was
starting to like the man.
'The wind's stiff,' Stump answered. 'I hope something's not blowing in tonight. Over.'
Protected by the cave, Four was unaffected. But Abe could hear the wind blasting
the face. It sounded like Niagara Falls out there.
'How about the tripod?' Robby asked. 'Did you see the top? Over.'
