The Descent

'Jeff  Long  has  achieved  something  that  has  so  far  evaded  both  high-caste   genre writers  and  literary  colonisers:  he  has  returned  science  fiction  to  its  original  vigour and  –  while  maintaining  all  the  headlong  readability  we  associate  with  the  form  – made it a worthwhile moral tool again. The  Descent  is SF for the 2000s,  from  a  writer who  simply  won't  be  told  what  he  can't  do.  There  should  be  more  like  it'  M.  John Harrison

'A tour de force. A subterranean  realm so expertly  realised and credible, we  feel  it  has existed  all  along.  A  dark,  pervading,  benighted  beauty.  If  Kim  Stanley  Robinson's Martian  colonists  had  headed  down  instead  of  up,  this  is  the  world  they  would  have found' James Lovegrove

'Without question, the best  thing  I've  read  so  far  this  year.  Long  proves  himself  to  be a wonderful storyteller.  A stunning tour de force' Peter  Crowther

'This  flat-out,  gears  grinding,  bumper-car  ride  into  the   pits  of  hell  is  one  major takedown  of  a  read.  Long  writes  with  unearthly  force  and  vision.  What  emerges  is  a War  of  the  Worlds  against  a  world  that  can't  lose.  A  page-burner  of  a  book'  Lorenzo Carcaterra

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Fiction

Angel of Light The  Ascent Empire of Bones

Non-fiction

Outlaw: The  Story  of Claude Dallas

Duel of Eagles: The  Mexican and US Fight for the Alamo

THE DESCENT

Jeff Long

Copyright © Jeff Long 1999

All rights reserved

For my  Helenas,

A Chain Unbroken

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

It  is  a  fairy  tale  that  writers  are  recluses  quietly  cohabiting  with  their  muse.  This writer,  anyway,  benefited from a world of other people's ideas  and  support.  Ironically, ascent  informed  important  moments  in The  Descent 's  genesis.  The  book  began  as  an idea  that  I  presented  to  a  climber,  my  friend  and  manager,  Bill  Gross,  who  spent  the next  fifteen months helping me refine the story.  His genius  and  encouragement  fueled every  page.  Early  on  he  shared  the  project  with  two  other  creative  spirits  in  the  film world,  Bruce   Berman   and  Kevin   McMahon  at   Village  Roadshow   Pictures.   Their support made  possible  my  're-entry'  into  New  York  publishing.  There  a  mountaineer and  writer  named  Jon  Waterman  introduced  me  to  the  talents  of  another  climber, literary  agent  Susan  Golomb.  She  labored  to  make  the  story  presentable,  cohesive, and true  to itself. With her sharp eye  and  memory  of  terrain,  she  would  make  a  great sniper.  I  thank  my  editors:  Karen  Rinaldi  for  her  literary  candor  and  electricity, Richard    Marek    for    his   dedicated    grasp    and   professionalism,    and    Panagiotis Gianopoulos, a rising luminary in the publishing world. I want  to  add  special  thanks  to my  nameless,  faceless  copy  editor.  This  is  my  seventh  book,  and  I  only  learned  now that, for professional reasons, copy editors are never  revealed  to  writers.  Like  monks, they  toil  in  anonymity.  I  specifically  requested  the  best  copy  editor  in  the  country, and whoever  he  or  she  is,  my  wish  was  granted.  My  deep  appreciation  to  Jim  Walsh, another of the hidden minds behind the book.

I am not a spelunker, nor an epic poet. In other words, I needed  guides  to  penetrate my  imaginary  hell.  It  was  my  father,  the  geologist,  who  set  me  roaming  in  childhood mazes,  from  old  mines  to  honeycombed  sandstone  structures,  from  Pennsylvania  to Mesa  Verde  and  Arches  national  monuments.  Besides  the  obvious  and  well-used inspirations for my  poetic license, I'm obliged to several  contemporary  works.  Alice  K. Turner's  The  History  of  Hell  (Harcourt  Brace)  was  stunning  in  its  scope,  scholarship, and  wicked  humor.  Dante  had  his  Virgil;  I  had  my  Turner.  Another  instructor  of  the underworld  was  the  indispensable  Atlas  of  the  Great  Caves  of  the  World,  by  Paul Courbon.  'Lechuguilla  Restoration:  Techniques  Learned  in  the  Southwest  Focus,'  by Val  Hildreth-Werker  and  Jim  C.  Werker,  gave  me  a  'deeper'  appreciation  of  cave environments.  Donald  Dale  Jackson's Underground  Worlds  (Time-Life  Books)  never quit  amazing  me  with  the  beauty  of  subterranean  places.  Finally,  it  was  my  friend Steve   Harrigan's  remarkable   novel   about   cave   diving,   Jacob's   Well   (Simon   and Schuster), that truly  anchored my  nightmares about dark, deep, tubular realms.

The  Descent  was informed by  many  other  people's  work  and  ideas,  too  many  to  list without  a  bibliography.  However,  Turin  Shroud ,  by  Lynn  Picknett  and  Clive  Prince

(HarperCollins),  provided  the  basis  for  my  own  Shroud  chapter.  'Egil's  Bones,'  by Jesse L. Byock (Scientific American, January 1995),  provided me a  disease  to  go  with my  masks.  Unveiled:  Nuns  Talking, by  Mary  Loudon  (Templegate  Publishers),  gave me  a  peek  behind  the  veil.  Stephen  S.  Hall's Mapping  the  Next  Millennium  (Vintage) opened my  mind to  the  world  of  cartography.  Peter  Sloss,  of  the  Marine  Geology  and Geophysics    Computer    Graphics    at    the    National           Oceanic                                                                                          and            Atmospheric Administration,    generously    displayed    his    state-of-the-art  mapmaking.           Philip Lieberman's The  Biology and Evolution of  Language  (Harvard)  helped  me  backward

into  the  origins  of  speech,  as  did  Dr  Rende,  a  speech  language  pathologist  at  the University  of  Colorado.  Michael  D.  Coe's  Breaking  the  Maya  Code   (Thames   and Hudson),  David  Roberts's  'The  Decipherment  of  Ancient  Maya'  (Atlantic  Monthly, September   1991),   Colin   Renfrew's   'The   Origins   of   Indo-European   Languages'   ( Scientific American, October 1989), and especially Robert Wright's 'The Quest  for  the Mother  Tongue'  (Atlantic   Monthly,  April  1991)   gave   me  a  window  on  linguistic discovery.  'Unusual  Unity'  by  Stephen  Jay  Gould  (Natural  History,  April  1997)  and

'The African Emergence and Early Asian Dispersals of the Genus Homo' by  Roy Larick and  Russell  L.  Ciochon  (American   Scientist ,  November-December   1996)   got  my wheels  seriously  spinning  and  led  me  to  further  readings.  Cliff  Watts,  yet  another climber and friend, guided me to an  internet  article  on  prions,  by  Stanley  B.  Prusiner, and  gave  medical  advice  about  everything  from  altitude  to  vision.  Another  climber, Jim  Gleason,  tried  his  damnedest  to  keep  my  junk  science  to  a  minimum,  all  in  vain I'm  afraid  he'll  feel.  I  only  hope  that  my  plundering  and  mangling  of  fact  may  pave some amused diversion.

Early  on,  Graham  Henderson,  a  fellow  Tibet  traveler,  gave  my  journey  direction with  his  observations  about  The  Inferno.  Throughout,  Steve  Long  helped  map  the journey,  both  on  paper  and  in  countless  conversations.  Pam  Novotny  loaned  me  her Zen-like   patience   and  calm,  in  addition  to  editorial  assistance.   Angela   Thieman, Melissa  Ward,  and  Margo  Timmins  provided  constant  inspiration.  I  am  grateful  to Elizabeth  Crook,  Craig  Blockwick,  Arthur  Lindquist-Kliessler,  and  Cindy  Butler  for their crucial reminders of a light at the end of the tunnel.