Dr. Oberman: What do you mean?
Cicero: A fifteen-year-old boy might die half a world away from his family and everything he knows. I could prevent that. But apparently, all I care about is having another crack at Everest.
Dr. Oberman: Aren’t you forgetting something? That fifteen-year-old is going to have a guide who’s the best in the business. If anyone can get Perry to the top, it’s you.
Cicero: A guide can’t stop altitude sickness or a falling chunk of ice.
Dr. Oberman: Those things are acts of God. They’d have the same effect on the most skilled climber in the world. Summit picked you because you’re number one, because they know that their kids will be as safe as it’s possible to be on a Himalayan peak.
Cicero: Okay, but just don’t ask how it makes me feel.
Dr. Oberman: If anything, this does your job for you. That’s one less spot you have to pick. Will you be ready to announce the team on Friday?
Cicero: I’m ready now.
The final team was unveiled late Wednesday afternoon, two days early. Ethan Zaph, Christian Alexis, Bryn Fiedler, and Perry Noonan would be traveling to Nepal as Cap Cicero’s SummitQuest expedition. Sammi Moon, Tilt Crowley, and Dominic Alexis were going home.
It was never easy to tell a climber, young or old, that he or she didn’t measure up. But Cicero was actually looking forward to his meeting with Tilt. He had even prepared a speech: You’re a great climber but a lousy person. I wouldn’t put you on my team if you were the last kid on Earth.
And when the moment came, the Tilt Crowley who sat across the desk from him wasn’t the brash, selfish bully Cicero had come to know and dislike. He was just a heartbroken fourteen-year-old who was having his life’s dream snatched away.
“Crowley, you’ve got some growing up to do,” was all Cicero could manage. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”
Tilt stumbled out of the office, stunned and devastated, and managed to fumble his way into his room to pack.
It was too late to make it to Denver to catch flights home, so Sammi, Tilt, and Dominic were not scheduled to leave until morning. The last night at the Summit complex was not going to be a pleasant one for them.
Tilt didn’t show up at dinner. Sammi and Dominic were there, but without much appetite. Neither had expected to make it, but the disappointment was still keenly felt.
“I’m sleeping in the TV lounge tonight,” Perry said feelingly. “Tilt’s going to strangle me in my bed.”
In truth, if there was anyone more shaken than Tilt, it was Perry. The news that he had made the Everest team had shocked him to the core. Oh, sure, it had been obvious, as he survived cut after cut, that there was something more than talent keeping him in the running. But never had he expected it to go this far. Like the moment in a bad dream where you’re conscious enough to know you’re going to wake up before the really hideous part, he had always relied on Cicero to put an end to this. And now he was on his way to climb a killer mountain.
That night, he sat in the lounge, surfing old reruns on TV until around midnight, when Dr. Oberman caught him there.
“You’re in training, Perry. You know you should be in bed.”
“Right,” said Perry. “I was just on my way.”
She regarded him intently. “And congratulations.”
For a moment, he looked at her as if she were speaking Greek. Then, “Thanks, Andrea. Thanks.”
She paused. “You know, no one can make you do something you don’t want to do.”
Perry nodded slowly. “Good night.” She had obviously never met Uncle Joe.
If Perry had expected rage, bullying, and abuse, it was not to be. In fact, Tilt was already in bed and did not address a single word to him.
All night, Perry could hear muffled sobs coming from the other side of the room. And if Tilt had not been so wrapped up in his own misery, he would have been able to detect similar sounds coming from Perry.
It was a curious paradox that one roommate should be crying because he wasn’t going, and the other because he was.
* * *
Dominic zipped up his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in a few days,” he said to his brother.
Tomorrow, the team would be flying up to the Alaskan panhandle for a practice ascent. After that, they would return home for three weeks of rest and preparation for the trip to Kathmandu and the ultimate adventure.
Chris put an arm around his younger brother’s slender shoulders. “You know, Dom, I thought it was crazy, you saving all those wrappers and caps. But I’m really glad you were here with me. Is there anything you want me to take to the summit?”
Dominic grinned ruefully. “Yeah — me.”
“You’ll get your shot,” Chris promised. “You’re a great climber. There’s nothing wrong with you that time won’t take care of. Try not to hold it against Cap.”
Dominic looked surprised. “It’s been the greatest thing in my life, training with Cap Cicero. I’ll never forget this month.” He opened the door. “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
Outside, Bryn was helping Sammi load her luggage into the Summit van.
“It’s called cliff jumping,” Sammi was explaining brightly. “Caleb did it last year in the Canadian Rockies. You’re on skis, but it’s not a real run, so you have to jump from snow patch to snow patch. If you hit rock, the wipeouts can be nasty. It’s pretty extreme.”
Bryn was all choked up. “I’ll never forget what you did for me.”
Sammi shrugged. “You climbers are too obsessed with mountains, mountains, mountains. There’s plenty of adventure out there. I’ll find something cool to do.” She embraced her roommate. “Sleep tight,” she said meaningfully.
“I will,” Bryn promised.
Tilt was already in the van, eyes staring straight forward, his face a thundercloud. He said good-bye to no one, and no one said good-bye to him.
Sneezy’s video camera rolled on as Sammi and Dominic pulled the door shut. The footage was shaky and of low quality. The cameraman was having his usual hard time watching candidates on their way home. To make matters worse, Lenny Tkakzuk would be driving the van into Denver. So he would be seeing the three disappointed climbers all the way to their airplanes. It was extra agony for a tenderhearted guide.
The drive was shattering — two hours of nothing but mountains, the last thing a failed climber wanted to think about. Dominic tried to envision the scenery of Kansas or maybe Nebraska. But the winding Colorado highway offered up snowcapped peak after snowcapped peak, stinging reminders of what had been so close, but had slipped away from them.
He listened to the never-ending scores and analysis from the all-sports station that the radio was tuned to, mingled with the tinny whine escaping from Sammi’s headphones. The only other sound in the van was Tilt’s breathing, steady, but too heavy, like a bull about to charge.
Tilt’s temper snapped about an hour into the drive. In a single motion, he had the tape out of the player and out the window before Sammi could exclaim, “Hey! That was Garbage!”
“Now it’s roadkill,” muttered Tilt.
Dominic slipped out of his belt and positioned himself between the two of them on the bench seat.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Sammi raged.
“Who’s going to make me?” sneered Tilt. “The shrimp?”
“Come on, guys,” pleaded Sneezy, trying to watch the road and keep an eye on his charges at the same time. “I know this isn’t an easy trip —”
Sammi fixed her furious gaze on Tilt. “You think because I’m a girl, I’m not going to put you through that back window?”
Tilt seemed to relish the chance to blow off steam. “You think because you’re a girl, I’m not going to hope you try?”
“Leave her alone,” ordered Dominic.
“Shut up!” chorused the combatants.
Sneezy pulled the van over to the shoulder, stopping in a spray of gravel. He turned in his seat. “Cut it out!!”
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They were momentarily shocked into silence. No one had ever heard the affable Sneezy raise his voice in anger. It was in that lull that the announcement came over the Sports Report:
“It was learned today that Ethan Zaph, the teen who conquered Everest last year, has pulled out of Summit Athletic’s SummitQuest expedition. In a case of ‘Been there, done that,’ Zaph has signed on with This Way Up, a team that’s planning a double ascent of Everest and nearby Lhotse. Zaph, the youngest ever to bag the world’s tallest peak, promises this year’s climb will be made without the help of supplemental oxygen.”
* * *
Everybody froze. The news was so stunning that it brought on a disorientation. The four occupants of the van couldn’t even remember what they had been fighting about scant seconds before. The whole world had shifted. The final team was no longer locked in.
Sneezy’s cell phone rang, but he made no move for it. It rang again.
“Answer it,” breathed Tilt.
The conversation was brief. “Got it, Cap.” Sneezy threw the van into a U-turn, squealing across four lanes of highway. They were already doing seventy when the left front tire flattened and pulverized Sammi’s Garbage tape.
Cap Cicero was screaming now. “You want me to do what?”
Tony Devlin tried to be calm. “When Ethan Zaph quit the expedition, we lost our star, the guy who was going to draw attention to our team. The only way to regain that spotlight is to break his record — to summit a kid even younger. Or the youngest girl. Or both.”
“All right,” said Cicero. “If anybody has a chance, Bryn does. She’s Himalayan quality.”
“We need a sure thing,” Devlin insisted. “Or as close to it as we can get. We have to pack that team with home runs.”
“I’ll take Sammi Moon in Zaph’s spot,” agreed Cicero. “I didn’t really want to cut her anyway.”
“What about Tilt Crowley?” asked Devlin. “He’s like a guaranteed record.”
“He’s like a guaranteed head case,” Cicero shot back. “We live in close quarters up there. A disruption can be death — and I’m not speaking figuratively.”
“The board of directors thinks you should give him another look.”
“All right, I’ll take him,” Cicero said defiantly. “In Perry Noonan’s spot.”
Devlin didn’t blink. “Perry goes, no matter what.”
“Well, I’m not taking Crowley over Moon.”
“You don’t have to,” said Devlin. “You’re going to take him over Chris Alexis.”
Cicero stood up so violently that his chair went flying. “Chris Alexis is the best climber I’ve got! I need him. He’ll be like an extra guide on Everest.”
Devlin was firm. “He’s too old to break the record. We can’t put our resources behind a kid who isn’t going to get us the attention we need. As Ethan Zaph’s teammate, he was fine. But now the rules have changed. He’s no use to us.”
Cicero took a deep breath as Devlin’s words sank in. Part of him wanted to lash out for the expedition’s sake and poor Chris’s, too. But Cicero had been climbing far too long not to understand the way things worked. It took a lot of money to put an alpinist atop Everest. A sponsor didn’t ante up that kind of cash for the love of mountaineering. They did it for the glory, the prestige, and mostly for the advertising. If Summit wanted a record, Cicero had to try to deliver, even if he thought the whole business stank.
“I’m surprised you’re not asking me to take Dominic,” he muttered resentfully. “The kid’s barely out of diapers.”
“We considered it,” said Devlin in all seriousness. “To put a thirteen-year-old on the summit would be an unbelievable coup. But we decided he’s just too small. He wouldn’t have a real chance to get to the top. Not like Tilt.”
But even then Cicero couldn’t commit. Devlin was still protesting as the team leader showed him out of the office.
“Don’t worry,” Cicero assured him. “We’ll be ready for Alaska tomorrow.”
“Taking which kids?” probed Devlin.
“You’ll know that as soon as I do.”
Cicero went through the day as if in a daze. He had led dozens of expeditions before, full of rich and powerful clients who had paid tens of thousands of dollars to have a crack at Everest or one of the other eight-thousand-meter peaks. The infighting! The egos! The one-upmanship! But none of those trips had created the kind of headaches he was having over this one.
It came down to this: All his instincts told him to avoid Perry Noonan and Tilt Crowley. He was already stuck with Perry. And now it looked as if he would have to take Tilt, too. He thought back to the kids who had disappeared in the prior rounds of cuts. Surely there was someone in there who was young enough and able enough to take instead of Crowley!
* * *
After twenty-seven days of nonstop training, the Summit complex suddenly saw leisure time, and lots of it. The van with the former washouts returned to find no climbing exercises, no hikes, no drills — just confusion. The final team was set — or was it? What was going on?
The returnees filled them in — the famous Ethan Zaph was a scratch.
The six waited for news at first, but Cicero’s office door remained shut. Eventually, Sneezy and Dr. Oberman shooed them away. But no one chose to visit the gym or the indoor climbing wall. No one could concentrate on anything but the suspense of the moment. They wandered the building like tourists, rubbernecking as though they were seeing the complex for the first time.
Except Dominic.
Cicero was still in his office when he spied the boy trudging through the snow down into the valley. He could have been going anywhere, but Cicero knew his destination instantly. It was where he would have been going in Dominic’s place, where any bred-in-the-bone climber would go — the mushroom boulder, the unsolved problem.
With a sense of urgency, Cicero raced up to the observation lounge on the top floor of the building. The plush suite, used for receptions and high-level corporate meetings, had telescopes mounted all around the panoramic windows. The westernmost had a clear view of that valley.
He peered into the eyepiece and fiddled with the knob until the Mushroom came into focus. Then he zoomed in. Sure enough, there was Dominic, right on schedule.
The boy didn’t climb right away, but sat there, leaning against the lopsided pedestal at the base, three times his height. He was looking up, studying the problem. At last, he rose, rubbing his hands together — a rock climber’s gesture. He ascended the pedestal and then the stem, searching for handholds on the underside of the massive top slab.
Once again, the team leader found himself completely absorbed. “Come down, kid,” he murmured aloud. “It’s just not there.”
And Dominic did come down. But only as far as the pedestal. He paused for a second, took three running steps, and launched himself off the highest point of the base, up and out — a dyno, the ultimate rock climber’s move. For a split second, his slim body hung in midair, twenty-five feet off the ground. Then, his hands came out of nowhere and clamped onto a small knob on the side of the mushroom cap. An instant later, he was on the top.
Cicero very nearly cheered. The move was as daring as it was brilliant. If Dominic hadn’t stuck that hold, he’d be on the way to the hospital right now! The kid had solved the unsolvable. And he did it just because he refused to let it beat him.
Too young. Too small. These things would disqualify other climbers. But not Dominic, because Dominic always found a way. And if the boy didn’t deserve Everest yet, maybe Everest deserved him.
The team came together in his mind: Bryn Fiedler, Sammi Moon, Perry Noonan, and Dominic Alexis.
No Ethan Zaph, no Chris Alexis, two girls, a guy who didn’t even want to go, and a middle-school kid.
The gods must be crazy!
* * *
The farewell scene was replicated in the Alexis brothers’ room, but this time it was Chris who was packing to leave.
Dominic was distraught. “
I can’t believe Cap did this to you, Chris. I should tell him to stuff it!”
“Are you crazy?” Chris exclaimed. “You don’t owe me that much loyalty! When he cut you, I never said boo.”
“I deserved to get cut!” Dominic insisted. “Not you. You’re the best of all of us!”
“But I’m over the hill,” Chris said bitterly. “I’ll be sixteen soon.”
“Cap’s a jerk!” Dominic raged. “I’ll never respect him again. Tilt wasn’t right about much, but he was right about Cap.”
His brother almost managed a smile. “If there’s one consolation in all this, it’s seeing Tilt Crowley get cut for the second time in two days.”
“You watch out for him,” Dominic warned. “When he gets mad, he’s nastier than usual.”
Chris undid the leather strap from around his neck and pressed the small vial of Dead Sea sand into his brother’s hand. “It’s all up to you now, Dom. I want this left on the summit. From the bottom of the world to the top. That hasn’t changed.”
“It’s changed because you’re not going to be there.” Dominic was close to tears.
“You make sure you get there,” Chris said bravely. “And back down again. Remember — summiting is optional, but coming home is mandatory.”
For the past month, the Summit complex had been their universe. Now, suddenly, jarringly, the SummitQuest team was on the move.
Harried preparation. Pack your personal gear. Hurry up. No, you don’t need sunblock; you’re going to Alaska in February. Ice ax — check. Crampons — check. Helmet lamp — check. Inner gloves, outer mitts. Everybody into the van. We’re late! Drive to Denver. Fly to Juneau. Load all the gear into the helicopter. And off into the air again.
Through the window of the chopper, Dominic watched the Juneau airport fall away. Even at one o’clock in the afternoon, it was dusk this far north. Not that you could see the sky. A heavy overcast was dropping a fine, hazy mist. A few miles inland and that turned to snow — not heavy, but steady. After the spectacular blue cloudlessness of the Colorado mountains, this place seemed as alien as outer space.
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