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.
He dressed in civilian clothing that barely fit, and took his rifle. Next morning, no one wanted to report Branch AWOL.
Finally, General Sandwell got the word. He was furious and did not hesitate to issue the order. Major Branch was in on the conspiracy with Ike, he declared. 'They're both traitors. Shoot them on sight.'
It was a monstrous big river down there.
– MARK TWAIN, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
16
BLACK SILK
The Equator, West
The paladin chased along the river's paths, devouring great distances. He had learned of yet more invasion, but this time along the ancient camino and nearing their final asylum. And so he had come to investigate this trespass, or destroy it, on behalf of the People.
He fought all memory. Suffered privations. Shed desire. Cast off grief. In service to the group, he gladly effaced his heart.
Some give up the world. For others, the world is taken away. Either way, grace comes in the moment. And so the paladin ran, seeking to erase all thoughts of his great love.
In her lifetime, the woman had borne him a child and learned her station and rightful duties and become mastered. Captivity had broken her mind and spirit. It had created a blank table for the Way to be written upon. Like him, she had recovered from the mutilations and initiations. On the merits of her nature, she had risen up from her lowly bestial status. He had helped create her, and, as happens, had come to love his creation. Now Kora was dead.
Stripped of clan, with his woman dead, he was rootless now and the world was vast. There were so many new regions and species to investigate, so many destinations calling to him. He could have forsaken the hadal tribes and gone deeper into the planet, or even returned to the surface. But he had
