Getting Back by William Dietrich Page A

There's a lot of competition to get in, and admittance is tough. You have to prove yourself. This is one way. It works."
    Daniel nodded slowly, intrigued despite his doubts. "So who can go?"
    "Ah. You're beginning to realize how rare this offer is. The answer to your question, of course, is the fit. The smart. The committed. The daring. And the dissatisfied. The ones to whom ordinary life is for some reason not enough. The oddballs, the misfits. Do you recognize yourself yet?"
    Daniel said nothing.
    "You go only with what you can carry on your back. Maps are prohibited. So is any weapon beyond a knife. You can take electronic devices, but only receivers: take your solar-cell TV, if you must, but leave your satellite phone at home. Our promise is that if you go, you won't know exactly where on the continent you are. Or precisely where you're going. Or how long it will take. You'll be as blind as Columbus, as bold as Magellan. No other adventure company offers such realistic challenge. We guarantee it!"
    "A year's salary for that?"
    "Listen to me. Everest is old, routine. You know that. The Sahara has become a holiday junket. Both Poles have resort hotels. Every river has been rafted and every reef has been dived. There's only one place of mystery left on earth: Outback Adventure's Australia. That's what the money is for, Daniel: the ultimate challenge of the ultimate wilderness. You bet it costs dearly! You have to want it so bad you can taste it! Because that's the only kind of person who can make it there."
    He took a breath. He could taste it. "How does it work?"
    "We have a meeting where you'll meet your fellow adventurers. Many decide to go in groups, something we recommend to both enhance your own survival chances and lower our transportation costs. We give you training. We have experts on the continent and books or tapes you can review on its ecology and geology. You'll go prepared. We'll give you a list of suggested equipment but it's up to you to prepare and equip yourself. You'll survive on your brain and your back. You make your preparations, train for six weeks, wait, and then we call without warning to inform you it's time to come to the Departure Port. Ready or not, here you go: we feel that edge adds to the experience, and weeds out the last few with secret doubts. You quietly quit your job in advance- don't worry, come back and you'll be wanted for something special- and fly to Departure. All volunteers are drugged to sleep for shipping."
    "Like export cargo."
    "Exactly. We transport you at night to a point somewhere in the continent's interior and set you down to awaken at dawn. Your goal is to trek to Australia's east coast and find its exit port, Exodus. Then you return to United Corporations' world, renewed and toughened. An eighteenth-century man of action in a twenty-first-century world! Survive this and you can kick corporate butt anywhere you go. But you have to survive it. There's no hospital, no rescue, no emergency food or water. We don't come get you. You're on your own."
    "Jesus." He drummed his fingers, a nervous habit. "What's the risk?"
    Coyle pushed a button of the chair-file under his cushion. Liability forms slid out of a desk chute and he plunked them in front of Dyson with a thump. "Some people don't make it. A lot of people, actually." He nodded as Daniel's brows lifted. "The risk is higher than high-altitude climbing. Sky diving. Hang gliding. Free diving. You name it. This is the riskiest thing on earth. And yet competition to participate is fierce. Only risking life, after all, makes you feel truly alive."
    "Worse than climbing?"
    "Worse than many wars."
    He took a breath. "All right, Elliott. Have you done this?"
    Coyle looked at Daniel a long time without expression. "Yes. Once."
    "And survived."
    Coyle smiled thinly. "Living proof."
    "And were you transformed?"
    The counselor had a faraway look in his eyes. "Oh yes."
    "And now?"
    "I became a believer, Daniel. A convert. An apostle. So