“You are doing this because you were ordered to,” Tesla said.
“I am doing this, yes, because I was ordered,” Irvine agreed, “but also because it will be one of the greatest achievements in history. The North and South Poles have been conquered. Everest is the last, great unknown.”
“And that is why it is there,” Tesla said.
Irvine frowned. “And if Mallory is”—he searched for a word—“corrupted? How do I stop him?”
“Kill the host body high enough, then the Ancient Enemy cannot survive.” “You are certain of this?”
Tesla nodded. “I’ve learned much. I destroyed their craft years ago, but we know now some survived. The Ancient Enemy is very patient. It has spent years gathering information, learning where it is, and now it is finally taking an action.”
“Why now?” Irvine asked.
“Because the peak finally seems within man’s capability of climbing and coming back down.”
“We hope it is,” Irvine said.
“I envy you,” Tesla suddenly remarked.
“Why?”
“Because you will see it.”
“If I make it there,” Irvine said. “And find the location.” “That is secondary.” With that Tesla strode away.
A hundred-foot-high vertical step blocked the path. It was a rock outcropping from the mountain rising above the northwest ridgeline extending down from the mountain-top. Sandy Irvine stared at it for several moments, then turned to Mallory. The elder climber simply pointed up. Mallory had led on the previous step, and now it was Irvine’s turn. He used his ice ax, chiseling out a small step. Then another. Then two handholds. He levered himself up, then reached as far above his head as he could and hammered a piton into a crack in the rock. He put a snap link in, then the rope that connected him with his climbing partner.
Irvine felt the rope tighten around his waist and lift him as Mallory leaned back on belay. There was no way a man could have reached this point on Everest, above twenty-seven thousand feet, climbing alone. This step alone would have been impossible for one man to climb. How much longer would that hold true, Irvine wondered. He could not see the summit from his position on the step so he continued up, ever so slowly.
After almost an hour, Irvine reached the top of the step, his hand scrambling for a hold. He found one and pulled himself up on top of the outcropping. He lay still for several moments, simply trying to catch his breath, knowing he never would at this altitude as the air was too thin. He rolled onto his back and looked up. The summit was only five hundred feet above — he started laughing to himself — only! And the top of the Kanshung Face, a mile-high almost purely vertical slab of rock that made up a large part of the north face of the mountain was to his left. That was where it was.
Irvine slowly got to his feet. He finally knew he could make it the rest of the way without help. When he felt a tug on his waist, Irvine looked down. Mallory was waiting, his face hidden behind oxygen mask and goggles. Mallory began to climb, putting pressure on the rope. Irvine belayed. Mallory made quick time and was within ten feet of the top when Irvine pulled out a knife and held it against the rope.
Mallory paused when he noted he wasn’t being helped on the belay and looked up. Irvine couldn’t see his partner’s face behind the goggles and mask, for which he was glad. It made Mallory seem like a thing, making what he was about to do more palatable. Still, he didn’t cut the rope. They had been together for months, traveling from England by ship, then overland by train, and then by horse and — finally — for months on foot, steadily higher into the Himalayas. He’d found Mallory to be withdrawn but competent, with little sign of the change Irvine had been told had occurred. It had brought forth doubts about what he’d been instructed to do. Mallory wrapped one arm around the rope, locking himself in place, then pulled aside his oxygen mask. “What are you doing?”
“I cannot allow you near it.”
Mallory reached with his free hands into his parka and pulled out a small glowing orb. “This must be placed on it.”
“Why?”
“To destroy it.” “Why?”
Mallory cocked his head slightly, as it was a stupid question. “You have no idea of the truth.”
“I know you’ve been corrupted by the Ancient Enemy,” Irvine said.
Mallory nodded slightly. “It is part of me. But it is here to save you.” “That is not what is written.”
Mallory didn’t reply. He reached up for a handhold. With that, Irvine cut the rope.
Mallory desperately clung to the side of the mountain. He didn’t speak again even though his mouth opened up, farther and farther. Irvine could hear bones cracking and ligaments tearing. Something gray was now visible in Mallory’s mouth, coming forth. Irvine didn’t wait to see more. He threw his ice ax at the climber and it hit him in the head. Mallory lost his grip, scrambled for it, then arched backward from the step, free-falling, until he slammed into the base and then began tumbling, picking up speed. Irvine watched as the body smashed into rocks, still rolling, then fell off the first step they had climbed earlier that morning and was gone down the mountain.
Beyond that Irvine knew there was a thousand feet of nearly vertical rock before his partner would crash into rock, ice, and snow. The curious thing was that Mallory had not screamed or made a noise as he slid, as if he accepted and almost welcomed his fate. The memory of whatever had been coming up into Mallory’s mouth caused Irvine to shudder, even more than the freezing cold seeping in through his clothing.
Irvine checked the sun, which was well past its apex. He knew if he continued upward his own death was inevitable. He also knew that he could not make it down alone. He looked up at the summit, then across at the top of the Kanshung Face. The summit? Or the other way? Irvine turned toward the Kanshung Face. It was late in the day and he knew, at best, he would reach the location just before dark, if not after the sun was gone. And that would seal his fate as effectively as a firing squad. And what would be the point of summiting when he was going to die there anyway? No one would know of his feat.
He rubbed his goggles, trying to scrape away the ice that constantly formed on them. He could barely see twenty feet. As had been true for the past week, the ground in front went upward. Ever upward. He was on the roof of the world — higher than any other human being on the planet.
He looked up once more, trying to clear his goggles. The sky was clear and the wind wasn’t howling, about as good as weather got on Everest. The ice on the lens was too hard and thick and Irvine gave up on his attempts to clear the goggles and pushed them down so they dangled around his neck. He blinked in the bright sunlight. The sun burned into his eyes, but Irvine ignored the pain as he searched the rock wall for the climbing route to the left.
He was on the north face of Everest. On Mallory’s first trip years earlier he had proclaimed the north face impossible to climb. The only possible way up Everest, Mallory had so boldly pronounced, would be via the less steep southern approach. Those words had been one of the indicators of trouble when Mallory announced this expedition and indicated he would use a north side route. High peaks were visible, all below him, and beyond them the brown plateau of Tibet. He could even make out the curvature of the Earth in the far distance.
The terrain grew steeper as he moved away from the ridge that he would have followed had his primary goal been summiting. He paused as the crampons on his left foot hit something solid. Rock was his first thought. He looked down. There was something brown. He reached down with one mittened hand and wiped away snow. A frozen face looked back at him, the skin etched where the steel had dug in.