Black Sun Descending by Stephen Legault Page A

closed his eyes a moment and then read.
    For four years Edward Abbey made this cabin and the tower above his home. From the top you can look out over the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and the vast forests beyond. It is a land of dark woods, soaring peaks, and deep canyons. It is teeming with wildlife, fish, birds, and it is threatened by logging, dam building, pollution, overuse, and bureaucratic malaise. Imagine a vast National Monument protecting all of the places Edward Abbey loved so that in the future we can all appreciate them for what they are: America’s greatest treasure.
    From here, on the North Rim, we can look down a mile into the earth and see one of the great rivers of the West, and of our nation: the Colorado. But even here, in this National Park, this thin thread of rust-colored water is threatened. Too many people traveling by motorboat mean that the experience of the early explorers is lost to those who would take their time. Too many people wanting to tear up the Arizona Strip looking for radioactive dust. And the impact of that most hated of all edifices to human greed and ignorance—Glen Canyon Dam—just upstream continues to desecrate both the upstream and downstream ecosystems. It’s time to return the Colorado to its original state; it’s time for this river to be designated as Wilderness.
    Silas read the passage twice and then closed the log book. The words echoed what Penelope had written in her own journal. Silas thought of something, opened the book again, and found the entry once more. Penelope had signed it and so had Darcy McFarland. A third name was on the register: Kiel Pearce. Silas stared at that name for a long time. He had never heard of this man before.

SILAS QUICKLY FOUND THE STORE located near the campground at the North Rim. After buying half an hour of internet time, he found Kiel Pearce in about five seconds. The man had a Facebook profile and listed Lee’s Ferry, Arizona, as his home address. His occupation was “River Guide for Grand Canyon Boatmen River Tours.”
    Pearce looked to be in his mid-thirties, with unkempt curly hair and a pair of sunglasses pushed up to hold some of the more errant strands from falling into his face. He had a dark tan, with lighter skin around dazzling blue eyes. He wore a broad smile and had perfect, ivory teeth.
    Silas scrolled through the man’s “likes,” which included the Southern Utah Wilderness Society, River Runners for Wilderness, and the Grand Canyon Preservation Society—the group that Jane Vaughn had led. Vaughn didn’t seem to have a Facebook page of her own. Back on Pearce’s page, Silas considered the man’s posts. He seemed to visit the page almost daily, posting thoughts on Wilderness, running rivers, and the boating season on the Grand Canyon, now underway. Pearce had many friends all over the country and around the world, and Silas suspected these were people he had guided on the Colorado and elsewhere.
    Silas noticed, however, that the man hadn’t posted a note in about ten days, and he immediately felt a lump form in his throat. Then, near the top of the man’s page, was a message posted by Grand Canyon Boatmen that tagged Pearce:
    Kiel, we are looking for you. If you read this message, call. If others have any information about where Kiel might be, please contact us, or Coconino County Sheriff’s Department.
    There were numbers listed for both.
    Silas left the building without logging out of the web page.
    HE FOUND A pay phone outside the store and, using his calling card, dialed the familiar number.
    â€œHollyoak.”
    â€œKen, it’s Silas.”
    â€œWhere the hell are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for two days!”
    â€œI’m on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. There’s not much cell reception here.”
    â€œI’ve got some news for you on Penny’s NSA file. It’s going to take some time to get it. A few