The copilot joins them, assisting Brandt and Martinez into the two harnesses linked by cable to twin hydraulic winches. “Gentlemen, there’s a two-way receiver in your headpieces. You’ll be able to communicate with us and each other. We need you to release your harnesses once you touch down.” He slides open the cargo-bay door, yelling over the deafening sound of the rotors. “Okay, fellas, out you go.”

All five ambassadors gather round to watch. Martinez feels his heart leap into his throat as he stumbles out the door and dangles 155 feet above the ground. He closes his eyes, feeling himself spin as he drops.

“You okay, Doctor?”

“Yes, Mr.Brandt.” He opens his eyes and checks the Geiger counter. “No radiation so far. Lots of heat.”

“Don’t worry, the suits should protect us.”

“Should?” Martinez looks down. Steamy whiffs of white smoke are rising up at him, fogging his faceplate. Another ten feet—“Wait! Stop—stop!” Martinez tucks his knees to his chest, struggling to keep away from the molten surface beneath him. “Raise us higher—higher!”

They stop descending, the two men dangling only inches above the boiling, 650-degree milky white geology.

“Raise us twenty feet,” Brandt yells.

The winch lifts them higher.

“What’s the problem?” Barbara’s voice tears into their eardrums.

“The surface is boiling, it’s a cauldron of melted rock and seawater,” Martinez says in a nervous, high-pitched voice. “We’ll do our tests right here. It’ll only take a minute.”

Taber’s deep voice causes him to jump. “Any radiation?”

Martinez checks his sensors. “No. Wait a second, I’m detecting argon-41.”

Brandt looks over. “That’s not a plutonium by-product.”

“No, it’s a short-lived activation product of pure fusion. Whatever vaporized this landscape must have been some kind of hybrid pure-fusion weapon.” Martinez hooks the Geiger counter to his belt, then analyzes the gases rising from below. “Wow. Carbon dioxide levels are off the scale.”

“That’s understandable,” Brandt says. “This entire plain was composed of limestone, which, as I’m sure you know, is nature’s storehouse for carbon dioxide. When the geology vaporized, it released a toxic cloud of CO2. We’re actually quite fortunate, the southerly winds blew it away from our cities and out to sea.”

“I’m also detecting high levels of hydrochloric acid.”

“Really? That is bizarre.”

“Yes, Mr.Brandt, this whole thing’s bizarre, and quite frightening. Take us up; I’ve seen all I need to see.”

Merida Airport Mexico

The transport helicopter lands with a bone-jarring jolt.

Mick opens his eyes, sucking in a deep breath to rouse his body from sleep. He lifts his head from the unzipped body bag and looks around.

Sixty-four plastic Army green body bags holding the remains of the Scylla crew line the interior. Mick hears the bay doors rattle. He lies back, zipping his bag.