Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Ninety-Eight
31st October 1979
Bethlam Royal Hospital, Beckenham, England
Over the summer Malcolm’s Mountaineering Club had watched with bated breath as an Anglo-Italian expedition had attempted to summit Karakoram 2. The end result was that the mountain had won another round after the team that had attempted to reach the summit had come to grief just short of the summit. Unlike with Compagnoni and Lacedelli who had vanished on the mountain, there was a survivor this time who had staggered into Camp 2 by the name of George Fennell. After apparently having descended alone, he had seemed to have completely lost the plot, ranting about how the mountain was a malevolent entity that was actively trying to kill them all. Malcolm understood full well that what Fennell had been going on about had more than a bit of truth to it. The trouble was that no one on the expedition had been able to get a coherent explanation as to what had happened to the other five men who had gone up the mountain beyond “The mountain took them.”
It had taken Malcolm weeks to find out where Fennel had ended up. In the end, he had spoken with Fennell’s mother and she had told him that he was in the Bethlam Royal Hospital, better known as the infamous Bedlam Asylum. She had said that she hoped that a fellow Mounteer around his age would be able to get through to him, unlike the Doctors who had failed. It had seemed strange to Malcolm that until he had contacted Mrs. Fennell, she had not heard from anyone else in the Mountaineering Community. She figured that they were afraid that her son’s bad luck might rub off on them. Malcolm had thought that he would need to call in a bunch of favors to arrange this meeting, but in the end that had not been required. Most of the difficulty was that Mialexa had insisted on coming to London to help out and her friend Jacqueline had tagged along thinking that it would be interesting diversion from studying Art History at University Dublin. When Jacqueline had been disappointed to learn that Bethlam no longer allowed spectators to gawk at the inmates, she had begged off. It was when they were on their way to the hospital that Malcolm found out that she had used a connection she had through Jacqueline’s father to gain access to Fennell, something that she had neglected to tell her friend.
The hospital itself was not what Malcolm had been expecting. He learned that the image he had of it with the elaborate Balls celebrated by the inmates in a caricature of the Royal Balls and sinking buildings was one of the previous incarnations of the hospital which had spanned seven hundred years in multiple locations. Malcolm had heard about “Thorazine Dances” and the complaints that it just wasn’t the same as in the old days. That was according to British Comedian John Beverley who had spent several months as a patient here as a teenager and had incorporated making fun of that part of his life as part of his standup routine. Malcolm supposed that the feeling of the place had not changed much over the centuries, it felt like despair and terror were oozing out of the walls. Then there was the smell…
When they found George Fennell, he was staring off into space with blank expression. Despite his passive demeanor, it was noticeable that the Hospital Staff was avoiding getting too close to him. Malcolm knew that this was due to the level of fitness that Mountaineers developed in their pursuits, the upper body strength of someone who had climbed to the very top of the world was not something to take lightly.
“Good morning George” Malcolm said as he sat down in the chair across from Fennell. Mialexa remained standing, she had conducted several interviews like this over the last several months and was probably wise to maintain the ability to step back quickly if necessary.
“Who’re you?” Fennell asked, his voice little more than whisper.
“I am Malcolm von Mischner-Blackwood” Malcolm replied, “Marie Alexandria is my younger sister. Your mother asked us to help you if we could, that is if you allow us.”
Malcolm knew that Fennell knew who was by reputation if anything. The two of them had several mutual friends and had moved within the same circles but had never been introduced.
“Help?” Fennell asked, before he gave them a dismissive wave of his hand with a snort of a laughter. Malcolm couldn’t help but noticing that the skin on Fennell’s hands had been ravaged by frostbite.
“I am an authorized representative of John Kennedy, a Senior Partner at Mallon, McGill, and Ó Doirnáin” Mialexa said, “They have offices in London and I cannot imagine you want to spend anymore time it a place like this than you have to.”
“And in return? Fennell asked. His tone suggested that he already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“All I want is information” Malcolm replied, “As far as we know you got further up the mountain than anyone else.”
Fennell gave Malcolm a dirty look. “That evil bloody mountain” He said growing agitated, Malcolm had heard that this had tended to become ranting since he had returned from that remote corner of India. “It knows about your ambitions, how you want to reach the peak more than anything, and it is right there just above out of reach. That costs you everything. I watched it take five friends in the blink of an eye…”
“You say that” Mialexa said evenly, cutting Fennell off. “But it is not saying how that happened that is to blame for your current predicament.”
“That is all I am asking for” Malcolm said, “The how.”
There was a long awkward silence as Fennell debated telling them.
“There is a couloir near the peak that looks like the easiest way to the top that is overhung by seracs” Fennel said, “We were working our way up with Harding up front setting ropes when the whole thing collapsed, I was last in line and everyone in front of me was gone in an instant.”
With that, Fennell went silent. That was more than he had said in months.