The Icarus Project

by Laura Quimby

  It was weird to be staring at Zoey in her bedroom while I was here at the station. Was this what it was like for Mom, seeing me at home cuddled up in my bedroom when she was traveling? I had a flash of homesickness, but I brushed it away. I was so relieved to see my best friend that I opened my mouth and poured out everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. I told her about the mammoth and how Randal had used fake tusks to lure us to the Arctic. The expedition was in total ruin, and I would probably be home in a week.

  Then I said, “What did you find out?” I was still curious to learn what Zoey had managed to dig up on Ivan and Katsu.

  “Well, you’re up there with some heavy hitters.” Zoey’s fingers flew across her keyboard as she talked. “Katsu is the real deal. He’s one of the top geneticists in the world. Problem is, he’s a radical.”

  “A radical what?” I asked. The only thing radical I had noticed about Katsu was his radical addiction to hand sanitizer.

  Zoey glanced into the lens. “For starters, the institute that he was working for in Japan fired him.”

  “People get fired all the time. That doesn’t make them radical. What was he working on?” I was playing devil’s advocate. I needed to hear solid proof about someone before I believed anything too extreme. All part of being a scientist.

  “Cloning, genetic manipulation—all that fun stuff.” A huge smile spread across Zoey’s face. She loved intrigue.

  “Are you serious? He’s too radical for the cloning people?”

  “Yep. Seems like he’s all about shortcuts and instant gratification. He wants to go down in history as the first person to clone an extinct species.” Zoey looked right into the camera and gave me a devious smile. “It looks like his extinct species of choice is the mammoth.”

  “Randal has a model of a mammoth park in his secret office.” I shook my head. “Are you sure? Can mammoths really be cloned?”

  “Looks like it. The science is solid. All that’s needed is viable DNA. This is awesome! I’m so jealous.”

  “Well, don’t be. The jig is up. There’s no mammoth DNA to use for the cloning because it’s a fake … I can’t believe Randal faked the tusks.” I shook my head again, the disappointment still raw.

  “So what does Randal think he’s going to find?” Zoey asked.

  “He still says he wants to find a mammoth. But it seems fishy to me.”

  “What else could it be? Another fossil?” Zoey asked. “Maybe something crash landed from outer space, like a satellite or a spacecraft.”

  I laughed. “That would be cool. But I doubt it. I’m thinking it’s just another animal fossil. Who knows?”

  “I can dream.” Zoey shoved a gummy bear into her mouth. “But Randal had better hope it’s more than a dream.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Zoey tapped on her computer keyboard. “Randal is in some serious trouble. I looked up Ivan, and trust me, you don’t want to mess with him. He’s part of a tough Russian crime family. Looks like they invest in companies doing scientific research, experiments, and drug trials. Some people think they develop drugs on the black market—that sort of thing.”

  “You mean he’s not really a scientist?” The situation was getting worse.

  “No, he’s a scientist all right, but his family likes to make a lot of money, and they don’t like to follow any rules.”

  “I bet they invested in Randal’s company,” I mused aloud. “But what are they going to do now? Do you think he’s in danger? They wouldn’t hurt him, would they?” Or anyone else, for that matter … like the scientists helping him?

  “Let’s just say he’d better find something in that ice. Something to make up for there not being a mammoth,” Zoey said. “I’ll be happy when you get back home safely.”

  A door slammed behind me. I jerked around in my chair.

  Kyle was standing there, still in his outdoor gear. “Maya—come quick!” He doubled over and sucked in mouthfuls of air.

  “What’s wrong?” More drama, probably.

  Then I heard a loud growling coming from outside. Kyle and I raced over to the window. A gray plume of smoke billowed across the sky. The rumbling grew louder. “It’s the helicopter!” he yelled. Panic shot through me. Justice flew the helicopter, and I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. Suddenly, we could see it, hovering in the air, weaving unsteadily toward the landing pad.

  “Sounds like something’s wrong with the engine,” Kyle said, clutching his face mask in his hands.

  The helicopter disappeared behind the hangar, smoke spiraling upward.

  “We have to do something. See if we can help,” I said.

  I turned to shut down the computer. “Zoey, gotta go.” I didn’t wait for Zoey’s response. The last thing I saw was her eyes wide with concern before the screen went black.

  “Come on!” Kyle said.

  I grabbed my coat, and we raced to the hangar. By the time we got there, the helicopter had landed. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air, but at least the helicopter hadn’t crashed. Justice and a mechanic were already checking the engine. I was surprised to see Ivan looming around the hangar with his luggage. His arms were crossed over his massive chest, and he had an angry scowl on his face. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he wanted to leave the station immediately. Kyle and I hung back when we saw that he and Randal were having a discussion.

  “You can’t hold us hostage! That’s illegal,” Ivan said, his brow twisted. “I’ll call the authorities if you don’t let me leave immediately. This is an outrage. First, you lie about the discovery and now you try to force me to stay here at the station.”

  “Calm down, Ivan. No one is holding you hostage,” Randal replied. “As you can plainly see, we’ve had some technical difficulties and will have to postpone any outgoing flights. You are more than welcome to find other means of transportation off the station if you wish.”

  “That’s impossible, and you know it.” Ivan paced back and forth, his gaze shifting around the hangar nervously. “I must go. I can’t stay here.”

  Ivan had been tense from the first moment I saw him in the helicopter. I don’t think the Arctic agreed with him.

  Randal had little consolation for the big man. “If you want Justice to fly you out, then you’ll just have to wait.”

  “It will take over a week to arrange for another flight to come here and take me to the nearest hub,” Ivan complained. His panicked eyes did not match his gruff exterior.

  “I’ll do all I can to get the helicopter up and running before then. Just stay for the week and see what turns up.” Randal buried his hands in his pockets.

  “You’re treading on thin ice, Randal. My family is not happy, and you don’t want to anger them. When they find out we have been scammed, you will be in big trouble.”

  “Really? I thought your family would appreciate my techniques. Seeing as how they are quite knowledgeable in the art of scamming.” Anger flashed over Ivan’s face, but Randal continued calmly, “I’ll deliver on my promise.”

  With that comment it was clear that Ivan did not intimidate Randal. Personally, I would be very afraid of him. Ivan was a giant and he had fists the size of grapefruits, and now he was trapped at the station like a wild animal in a zoo. And from what Zoey had said, Ivan’s family knew how to get what they wanted.

  Randal rested his hand on the Russian’s shoulder. “We will find something under the ice. I know it. Just be patient. One week—remember? One week was all I asked.”

  He may have asked, but it was clear none of us really had a choice, especially now that the helicopter was down. A smoky gray cloud hovered in the air over us. No one was leaving the station. We were all grounded.

  Ivan was furious. “You’d just better hope that there is a mammoth or something with viable DNA in the ground. You are in debt to my family, and it’s not the type of debt you can pay off with your millions. Get something we can use in the lab or I will take your DNA.” Ivan drilled his finger into Ra
ndal’s chest.

  “I promise you, you won’t be disappointed,” Randal replied.

  Ivan grabbed his suitcase and barged out of the hangar.

  If Randal was shaken, it didn’t show. He tipped his cap to us and headed over to the small office inside the hangar to speak with Justice in private.

  I looked at Kyle. “Randal is in deep.”

  “This week is going to be interesting, that’s for sure.”

  “Why would he go to all that trouble designing a park when he knew there was no mammoth?” I asked.

  “Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he really thought he could just venture out and find a mammoth. Guys like that think that with a ton of money they can do anything. Remember all the trophy fossils we found in his secret room? He’s probably been dreaming about his theme park for years.”

  “I hope he finds something, or Clark’s Mammoth Park is going to turn out to be a pretty scary place,” I said.

  “More like Randal Clark’s tomb,” Kyle added.

  The scandal of “Tusk-gate” wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Dad was one of the nicest guys in the world, but he wasn’t a doormat.

  I knew that he had woken up early and headed out to the dig site with Karen and Ivan. Kyle and I were to join them at the site that afternoon.

  A web of cold air clung to me, but I ignored it. I was trying to acclimate, like Justice said. I pretended that I didn’t notice the way the cold sank through neoprene, fleece, and cotton until it rubbed against my skin and stole my warmth. I shifted from foot to foot and shook out my arms. There were no birds overhead. I imagined they had been absorbed into the white cottony blanket of the sky.

  I stared at a chain-link fence standing guard in front of me.

  West’s face appeared in the door to the dog hut, and he yelled, “Don’t touch the fence with bare skin! No fingers, noses, cheeks … and no tongues!” He pointed a gloved finger at Kyle, who burst out laughing, and I wondered where he had put his tongue before.

  West continued. “No pressing up against it. The metal will stick to your skin—rip it clean off.”

  I eyed the fence from a safe distance. The cold was still there, lingering, acclimating to me.

  Finally, the door shot open and the dogs spilled out of the warm hut. A pack of lean and lanky huskies barked and yapped, their pink tongues lolling out of their open mouths. Smoky breath plumed from their snouts. They bounced and jostled for our attention, banging up against the fence until West hurried over to let us in. Kyle and I went inside the enclosure and were immediately mobbed. Tails whipped back and forth. Dog bodies wove their way between the two of us as we petted and rubbed their furry backs.

  Kyle dragged one dog around by a knotted rope that the dog clenched tightly in his jaws. The wild crystal-blue eyes of another dog stared at me. I knelt down and was overrun with dog love, licks, and kisses. West let Kyle and me jump around with the dogs for a while before motioning for us all to come back to the warmth of the hut. Once inside, I pulled off my gloves and sunk my fingers into their furry coats.

  Then I saw the runt off in the corner by herself, pushed to the back of the pack. I was drawn to her right away. Her fur was all white except for a splatter of brown spots and speckles that made her look like she had been splashed with mud. I moved slowly in her direction. I held out my hand for her to smell, and she eased toward me, low to the ground, tail wagging wildly. Once she smelled me, she licked my fingers and let me run my hands through her thick, soft fur.

  “She likes you,” West said.

  “Will she be one of the dogs pulling the sled today?” I asked hopefully.

  “No, she doesn’t do much pulling. Too small.” He patted the haunch of a much bigger dog.

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed. “What’s her name?”

  “She doesn’t have one.”

  The dog’s amber-colored eyes stared up at me. What had looked like the brown splashes of a mud puddle reminded me of the cinnamon sugar that Mom used to sprinkle on toast to make it taste sweet and crunchy when it came out of the toaster oven. “How about Cinnamon? That’s a good name.” Naming something gave it strength, made it more whole. Cinnamon was a fiery color.

  “For a sled dog?” Kyle knelt on the floor, his arms around two other dogs. “She needs a tough name. Like Ginger Snap! That’s a tough-dog name.”

  “That’s good, too. But I still like Cinnamon. Gives her a spark. What do you think, West?”

  Cinnamon rolled over on her back, exposing her white belly.

  “Not bad.” West grinned at me, knowing what I was up to. “Since you’re taking the initiative on giving her a name, why don’t you get the brush out and give her a good brushing? That coat of hers is one big mat.”

  “Cinnamon!” I called to her as I dug a comb and brush out of the supply cabinet. She jumped to her feet and raced over to me. I rubbed her neck, getting a face full of dog licks. “I think she likes her new name.” I dragged the brush through her tangled fur, and she yapped and squirmed.

  “Don’t get too attached. She’s probably not going to stay with us, seeing as she’s not as strong as the others,” West said. He was holding a string of harnesses on his arm that must have weighed a ton. Strength seemed to be an important quality for West.

  “Sure, she might be small, but she’s smart,” I said. A wad of shedded dog hair flew in the air as I brushed out her matted fur.

  “She might be. But on a dog team, you need strength. No weak links. That little girl has a lot to prove if she wants to stick around.” West flexed his arm and carried the harnesses to the other side of the dog pen.

  “So where is she going if she can’t stay here?” I asked. I held the dog in my arms, raking my fingers through her speckled fur. They couldn’t just send her away. She wasn’t that small. And what was wrong with being small? Nothing, that’s what.

  Kyle stood and rocked back on his heels, a big black-and-gray husky tangled up in his legs.

  “Can I keep her?” I blurted out suddenly. Right away I knew Dad would kill me. First, no tusks, and now I had put in a request for a live animal. “Please?” It was crazy, but I didn’t want her to go. I felt an instant connection with her. She was meant to be mine. I just knew it.

  “You would have to ask Randal,” West replied. “After yesterday, he might be in a generous mood. But you might also want to ask your dad. I don’t know how he would react to a dog suddenly joining you. And then you’d need to ask if it’s OK with Justice. But I don’t see why he would mind.” A dog poked his muzzle in West’s hand, looking for a treat.

  “I’ll ask, so don’t send her away yet,” I said. “I think she likes me.” Cinnamon had snuggled inside the crook of my arm and was wagging her tail.

  “Two girls sticking together,” West said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Justice entered the hut, looking cool in his aviator sunglasses. “Who’s ready to hit the powder and go for a run?”

  “We’re ready!” Kyle yelled.

  Dog barks filled the hut.

  “Justice will be driving the sled out to the site. He trains all our dogs.” West gave Justice a pat on the back.

  “What a cool job,” Kyle said. “I’d love to be outside flying the helicopter and working with dogs all day.”

  “I’ve been raising dogs my whole life. More of a love than a job. My ancestors have lived in this area for generations. Dogs are as important to us as people. They’re members of our family.”

  “Even the runts?” I asked. I nudged West with my elbow. He and Justice exchanged a smile.

  “Well, all of the dogs have a place. Maybe not at the front of the pack, but we find roles for them. Sometimes the role is just as a companion. But that can be an important job, too.” Justice scratched the top of Cinnamon’s head and she wiggled out of my arms. She leaped and jumped and yapped, but she looked tiny in comparison to the other dogs.

  “When we hitch the dogs up, can I drive?” Kyle begged. “Please?”

  “We’ll
see,” West said, and winked at Justice.

  Justice went outside to harness the dogs and get the sled ready. Kyle and I followed right behind. The cold nipped at my exposed skin. The dogs danced on the snow. Kyle and I piled onto the back of the sled with Justice. The air was crisp and sharp and clear as glass. Through my goggles, the sky looked like cloudy marshmallows hanging low above our heads.

  The trip out to the dig site was about ten miles. I tucked my head down and enjoyed the ride until Kyle pulled on my sleeve and pointed off in the distance. Silvery domes littered the landscape, clustered together like shiny igloos.

  “That’s where you both are going to be staying tonight,” Justice said.

  Finally, it was real. I was going to my first expedition site.

  A huge white tent, barely visible from a distance, was where the dig was set up. When we reached it, the tent was buzzing with energy, people talking and working. It was like walking into a dream. The site was organized chaos. Dad and Randal were having a discussion, which was a nice way of saying that they were disagreeing. Ivan and Karen were also taking sides in the discussion. Equipment was everywhere. A generator buzzed in the background. To make the scene even more hectic, Jake was circling the group of scientists with his camera.

  “We’ve arrived,” West announced.

  “Hey, you made it.” Dad waved us over.

  “Good. We can take a break and give the kids a tour of the site.” Randal patted Kyle on the back. “Take a good look around. One day you could be leading your own expedition.”

  One side of the tent had been secured to an icy rock wall. A large crevice in the surface looked like a giant pick had taken a bite out of the ice. I peered through the jagged opening and saw the rough sides of walls that opened up into a small cave, protected by layers of clear tarp. My pulse quickened, for inside lay the mysterious mass. Randal directed our attention to where he planned on excavating. He put his arm around Kyle and showed him where they were removing sections of the permafrost in hopes of unearthing the mass. A table was covered in maps and tools. I tried to get closer to see what was going on, but Jake pushed his way forward, nosing his camera in to get a shot of Randal and Kyle. I tripped and bumped into his leg. He glared at me as if I were the most annoying person on the planet; when I tried to stand a little closer to Kyle, Jake yanked my hood back off my head, and I stumbled backward.