Uphill, stark against the shadow of distant mountains, appeared a fortress of red earth. As they drew nearer, tires grinding over rocks, Eliza saw that more vehicles stood outside its walls, among them jeeps and heavy military transport trucks. A helicopter, off to one side, idle. There were soldiers patrolling, dressed in dusty desert camouflage, and she caught her breath and turned to Dr. Chaudhary. He had seen them, too.
Cutting down a path from the fortress: figures in white hazmat suits.
Alien invasion protocol , thought Eliza. Oh hell.
One of the agents made a phone call, and by the time their vehicle came to a stop near the others, a man with a broad black mustache was there to greet them. He wore civilian clothes and spoke with an accent and an air of authority. Welcome to the Kingdom of Morocco, doctor. I am Dr. Youssef Amhali.
The men shook hands. Eliza merited a nod.
Dr. Amhali began Dr. Chaudhary.
Please, call me Youssef.
Youssef. Are you able to tell us why were here?
Certainly, doctor. Youre here because I asked for you. We have a situation that exceeds my expertise.
And your expertise is? inquired Dr. Chaudhary.
I am a forensic anthropologist, he replied.
What kind of situation? asked Eliza, too quickly, too loudly.
Dr. AmhaliYoussefraised his eyebrows, pausing to take her measure. Should she have remained the silent assistant, the obedient female? Maybe he heard fear in her voice, or maybe it was just a stupid question, considering his field. Eliza was well aware what forensic anthropologists did, and what must have brought them all here.
And when he lifted his head, just slightly, and sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose in distaste, Eliza smelled it: a ripe rankness
on the air. Decay. The kind of situation, miss, that smells worse on a hot day, he said.
Bodies.
The kind of situation, Dr. Youssef Amhali continued, that could start a war.
Eliza understood, or thought she did. It was a mass grave. But she didnt understand why they were here. Dr. Chaudhary gave voice to this question. Youre the specialist here, he suggested. What need can you have of me?
There are no specialists for this, said Dr. Amhali. He paused. His smile was morbid and amused, but underlying it Eliza detected fear, and it fed her own. Whats going on here?
Please. He motioned them ahead of him. Its easier if you see them for yourselves. The pit is this way.
34
THINGS KNOWN AND BURIED
They were at least twenty minutes doing paperwork, signing a series of nondisclosure agreements that escalated Elizas anxiety page by page. Another quarter of an hour fumbling into hazmat suitsratcheting the anxiety up even furtherand at last they joined the insectlike parade of white-clad figures on the path.
Dr. Amhali paused at the top of the slope. His voice came out thin, filtered through the breathing apparatus of his suit. Before I take you any farther, he said, I must remind you that what you are about to see is classified and highly volatile. Secrecy is paramount. The world is not ready to see this, and we are certainly not ready for it to be seen. Do you understand?
Eliza nodded. She had no peripheral vision, and had to turn to catch Dr. Chaudharys nod. Several white figures trouped behind him, and she realized that there were no distinguishing features to any of them. If she blinked, she could lose track of which one was Dr. Chaudhary. She felt like shed stepped into some kind of purgatory. It was deeply surreal, and became even more so once the restricted site came into view. Downhill from the kasbah, a rope perimeter enclosed a cluster of acid-yellow hazmat tents. Big, squat generators hummed, snaking power lines into the tents like umbilical cords. Personnel milled about, grublike at this distance in their head-to-toe white plastic.
Farther out, soldiers patrolled. In the sky were more helicopters.
The sun was merciless, and Eliza felt as though her air supply were being syphoned into her mask through a straw. Clumsy and stiff in her suit, she picked her way downhill. Her fear, like her shadow, lengthened before her.
What was in the pit? What was in the tents?
Dr. Amhali guided them to the nearest one and paused again. The Beasts are coming for you, he quoted. Thats what the angel said. And it seemed to Eliza that in the space of seconds she became just a heartbeat encased in plastic. Beasts. Oh god, here? It would seem that they are already among us.
Among us, among us.
And with a showmans flourish, he whipped back the flap door to reveal
beasts.
The word beast , Eliza realized slowly, encompassed an extremely broad spectrum of creatures. Animals, monsters, devils, even unspeakable dream-things so terrible they can stop a little girls heart. These were not the latter. Not by a long shot.
These were not her monsters, and as her heart resumed something like normal beating, she chastised herself. Of course they werent. What had she been thinking? Or not thinking. Her monsters existed on a vast dream plane, at a whole different order of magnitude.