by Laura Quimby
If I could turn my head, I would look back at him, but I was stuck.
Was Charlie somehow doing this? Was he sending me a message?
And if he was, could I send him one back? Could he hear me or sense me?
I had to try to do something, even if it didn’t work. I focused my thoughts. I called out to Charlie silently. Please hear me. Please let me go. I screamed in my mind.
Charlie, stop!
For a few moments nothing happened. Loneliness overwhelmed me. The stillness was terrible. My mind raced and then bumped around in my head like a trapped insect looking for a way out.
Then slowly the buzzing sound receded, and the ice softened its grasp on me. I could move my body a little—a finger and then my foot. The ice groaned. It was breaking up, melting, disappearing as quickly as it had come.
I slumped to the floor, and within just a few minutes the water had receded like a mysterious tide that had never been there. The floor was completely dry, and I lay shivering on the cold tile. I wanted to get up and run away, run back to my room and pack my bags and leave the station.
But I struggled to my feet and walked over to the open freezer door, and I saw what I knew I would see. Charlie hadn’t gone anywhere. He was still trapped in the block of ice. I leaned against the door frame. The block hadn’t miraculously melted at all, filling the lab with water, drowning me, and freezing me into a human ice cube. It had been an illusion, some trick played on my mind.
I didn’t know how it had happened, but I think it was Charlie, and I think he was trying to send me a message, and that message was, Help me.
I couldn’t explain any of it scientifically. The only thing I knew for sure was that I understood how Charlie felt: alone, trapped, helpless, but aware of everything going on around him. I had to do something to help him. Longing bubbled up inside me, pushing against my heart. It ached for the boy trapped in the ice. I wanted to tell Dad—but he was so busy, so excited to have found Charlie. Everyone was.
Anyway, what would I tell him? I felt like I was slipping. I knew what I had seen. I had felt everything, and I knew it wasn’t a dream. Was the weather affecting me, or was I just going crazy? Maybe Dr. Kernel was right and I was delusional, seeing things. No one would believe me, especially after the incident with the snow ghost. But still, no matter how hard I told myself to be logical, the sense I had about Charlie wouldn’t go away.
I went back to my room and changed into my pajamas and put on two fresh pairs of socks, sweatshirts, and scarves, because even inside it was never really warm without at least two layers of clothes. I huddled on my bunk and decided to wait until I could figure things out.
Something weird was going on. There had been all the strange events—the flickering light, the power outages, the strange feelings and emotions and dreams. All the events had one thing in common: They all began when Charlie arrived.
After my experience in the lab, I just wanted to go to bed, but I was too anxious, too jittery for sleep. Time at the station blurred together, days and nights. Once the discovery of Charlie was made, Dad had postponed our early departure, and now we were back to the original timeline of a month’s stay before I had to be back for school. No wonder Ivan was having a hard time acclimating to the Arctic. I was feeling off balance, too, like nothing around me was real, but only a snow-swept mirage.
Once I had warmed up a little, I got up and went back to the scene of the strangeness—the lab. Randal, Karen, and Katsu were there, all in the freezer, so I waited. I sat at the desk and watched as the computer screen filled with Charlie’s test information—information that was impossible for me to decipher. I shifted in my chair and my foot hit something on the shelf beneath me. I saw a flash of silver at my feet. Katsu’s silver case. It sparkled like a silver fish, a lure, a hook. Silver was the most unsympathetic color in the spectrum. Shiny and impenetrable, it was a logical color. It was a little bit science and a little bit sparkly. Silver was tough and glamorous at the same time.
There the case sat, all alone on the shelf. Anyone could unlatch it and take a quick peek inside. No one would know. I inched the case closer to myself with the heel of my boot. Then I saw the lock. It probably wouldn’t open. That would be the test; if it was unlocked, I would peek, if it was locked, I would leave it alone. Let fate decide.
I crouched under the table and flicked the clasps. They opened with a pop. My pulse quickened. All I had to do was lift the lid and look inside.
The lid sprang open, and I saw that the case was lined with thick gray insulated foam. Nestled in the lining on one side were sharp surgical instruments for cutting, slicing, and piercing, along with a tool that looked like a small electric drill. The other side of the case was filled with empty glass vials. I felt sick to my stomach. And then I felt a hot anger slide over me. I knew what the tools were used for. Katsu was going to hurt Charlie. He didn’t understand what he was doing. He didn’t realize that Charlie was special. I couldn’t let Katsu use his tools on him.
I felt the air around me move and I bent down to close the case, but it was too late. I hadn’t even heard the door to the freezer close. My nose twitched. The scent of hand sanitizer filled the room. I raised my head and swallowed hard.
“It is a collection kit,” Katsu said. His voice was calm, kind. If he was angry with me for snooping, he didn’t show it.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, trying to smile. “I was just curious.” I lowered the lid.
“Of course you were. You are the daughter of a scientist. I would expect nothing less. You want to know what is happening around you.”
Scientist. Didn’t he mean lightweight? I thought, remembering what he had said about Dad to his colleague on the phone. He didn’t take anyone here seriously.
“What’s it for?” I asked.
“I am going to use the tools to drill down into the ice and take samples from the winged specimen.” His eyes sparkled. “Such a marvelous creature. One of a kind.”
Was that how he saw Charlie—as a specimen?
“You mean you’re going to cut him up and take little pieces of him back to your lab to study.” I thought of Randal’s secret room, filled with trophy fossils. Katsu wanted to collect Charlie and keep him as a prize.
“Exactly. Now you see. Now you know what I’m going to do. It is the way of the scientist. We study. We learn.” He reached down and took the silver case from my hands.
What I saw was a torture kit. Katsu didn’t have sympathy for a discovery like Charlie. My eyes burned. I wanted to heave that silver case into the cold snowy sea outside the station door, or to call up an ancient Inuit god to blow it far, far away, or to summon a giant mythical thunderbird to swoop down from the heavens and snatch it up in its beak and fly away. My fists were tight balls. I couldn’t look Katsu in the eye.
He seemed to sense my unease. “It won’t hurt him. He isn’t alive. Believing such foolishness is the first mistake of a young scientist.”
I sighed.
“I don’t mean to offend. We all make that mistake. We personify creatures. Make them seem human. Give them names and imaginary lives with families and friends. But this creature is not real. Charlie is not a person anymore. He is a specimen, and that makes him so much more special and important.” Katsu squirted more hand sanitizer onto his palm. The scent of alcohol filled my nostrils.
“How do you know?” I said, finding my voice. Frustration was building in me. I had to do something to make him understand.
“You are right. I don’t know for sure. There are no guarantees. But I will take that risk. I will study him.”
“What will you do after you take samples?” I asked.
“I will bring him back from the dead.” Katsu chuckled. “Not literally. But I will make more of him. Make many Charlies. For the world to see.”
More Charlies? It wasn’t polite to call a person crazy to his face, and probably not a good idea to do it behind his back, either. But I had to admit that what Katsu was suggesting was a lit
tle out there.
“That’s impossible,” I said.
“No, it is possible. I will make it happen. It is my science.”
“But it’s not right.” My face felt hot, and panic filled me. “You can’t. You can’t do that! I won’t let you!” I yelled, and grabbed the silver case from him and tucked it under my arm.
“You are too young to see the possibilities of the future and what we plan to build.” He held out his hands. “Give me back my case.”
“No. I saw Randal’s mammoth park. I saw that you wanted to clone mammoths. Now that you don’t have one, you’re going to use Charlie.” I felt sick to my stomach. I looked around the room, trying to figure out my next move. No way was I surrendering the case.
“I know this is hard to accept. Long ago science was feared. It was too unbelievable. It was likened to sorcery. Maybe it would be easier to see what I am doing as a kind of magic.”
“Magic isn’t cruel. I won’t let you hurt Charlie,” I said, and ran for the door.
“Maya!” Randal’s voice boomed across the room. “Stop this. Right now.”
I stopped and slowly turned around, feeling a mix of shame and anger. Randal’s face was filled with disappointment. But he just didn’t understand. None of them did. They didn’t know what I knew about Charlie.
Karen and Randal had come out of the freezer into the lab. A worried look filled Karen’s face.
“Katsu said he’s going to drill,” I said. “Going to take samples of Charlie. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Randal replied. “We will start tomorrow with the procedure.”
“But you can’t. You can’t hurt him.” My voice was thick in my throat. I walked back to the desk and dropped the case onto the cold metal surface, giving Katsu a dirty look. “Please, Randal,” I said, going over to where he stood and grabbing him by the arm.
But he just he patted my hand and peeled my fingers off. “Maya, you’re acting irrationally. I thought you were more mature,” Randal said.
“Charlie won’t be hurt,” Karen said. “He won’t feel a thing. He’s not alive anymore. He just looks like a real boy because he’s suspended in the ice. It’s what makes him so rare, such an important find.” Karen stroked my hair. “There’s no one like him in the world.”
“That’s what I tried to tell her, but she doesn’t understand,” Katsu said. “It’s a mistake to bring children into the field. They see everything as a pet or a friend.” He frowned, looking down at me.
“That’s enough, Katsu.” Randal motioned to the door. “Let’s go to my office and discuss the procedure for tomorrow.”
The two of them left, shutting the door behind them, leaving me alone with Karen. I knew from the look on her face that there was little I could say to persuade her to save Charlie. But I had to try.
“You don’t understand. He’s real—Charlie is alive.” My voice cracked. “I can feel him. I don’t know how else to explain it. But I feel him here.” I tapped my chest.
“Oh, Maya. He’s not alive. He’s been preserved in the ice and only looks real. He has not been alive for a very long time.”
I shook my head. “You have to believe me. He’s alive inside the ice. He’s not dead.”
“I’m sorry. I know that you and Kyle have grown attached to Charlie. But you must remember what we are here for. Your dad and I study the past. We learn about boys like Charlie to help us understand where we came from. He’s very important. Think of him as a hero, giving us valuable insight into what his life was like many years ago.”
I knew Karen was just trying to make me feel better, and I knew that under normal circumstances she was right. But she didn’t know that Charlie was real. How else could he have shown me that vision? Why else was he messing with the electricity and sending everyone strange dreams?
I had to find Kyle. We had to do something, anything, to stop Katsu before he cloned Charlie. We had to prove to Randal that Charlie was behind the dreamscapes that we were experiencing. He was not a specimen suspended in the ice; he was waiting to be freed from his frozen tomb before Katsu got a chance to use his shiny drill.
One thing I had learned from my parents was that scientists appreciate logical analysis. When faced with a dilemma, they needed proof—irrefutable, verifiable facts. Dreams, visions, and gut feelings are not facts. As much as I knew they were true, I couldn’t prove it yet. If I wanted to help Charlie, I would have to prove with cold, hard data that he was alive.
I couldn’t get the image of Charlie sitting up on the metal table in the lab out of my mind. His gaze locked on to mine. His wings stretched out, ruffling the air. Mostly I felt pain—his pain, his fear, his panic to be freed from the frozen block of ice. I had a problem to solve. I had to help Charlie.
There was only one person who might have the proof I was looking for. He might even have it on film.
Kyle and I huddled over a cup of cocoa, discussing the events of the past few days. I had decided to confide in him.
“The weirdest thing happened to me,” I began.
“Does it have to do with Charlie?” Kyle had a serious look on his face. “Go on.”
He listened as I told him about seeing the glowing light inside Charlie, about freezing in midair in the lab and how I felt a strange presence, but not a scary one, just like someone was there with me.
And then Kyle did the coolest thing ever. He believed me. He didn’t think the glowing light was weird at all. “What do you think it was?” he asked.
“I think it was Charlie,” I said. “Who else would it be?” I ran my hands through my tangled hair.
“Well, I don’t know.” Kyle eyed me strangely. “Are you feeling OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Why?” I asked a little too quickly.
Kyle held his hands up. “Don’t get so defensive.”
“What? Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked.
“No, I’ve just never seen you so passionate about anything,” Kyle said. “I think we need to check it out.”
I took a deep breath and told him about the camera under the tarp and what it might have captured. I hated to admit it, but Jake and his camera were my only hope to save Charlie. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that the snow ghost I saw had wings just like Charlie’s. If Jake got the winged creature on tape, then maybe we could use it to keep Charlie at the station, to protect him. Maybe we could get some endangered-species status or at least persuade the scientists and Randal to see him in a new way—more than just a specimen. It was worth a shot.
“We have to get a look at the tape,” I said to Kyle. “I have to find out if the camera captured anything.”
“We could sneak into Jake’s room and watch the playback on his computer. He uploads all the film he shoots every day so he has a backup.”
I nodded. It sounded like a plan to me.
Jake’s room was surprisingly neat. His bed looked like you could bounce a quarter off it. There was a dresser in one corner and a laundry bag hanging on a hook. A neat L-shaped desk took up most of the room. Two large computers sat on the desk. Someone had labeled and tied up all the wires. Numerous cameras and tripods were positioned around the room. The floor was spotless.
“Wow, he’s got two computers.” Kyle rushed over to the desk and plopped down in the swivel chair. “Must be nice to have a billionaire uncle.”
“Let’s just hope Jake’s as good a filmmaker as he thinks he is and got some good footage.” I wiggled the mouse, and one of the computer monitors jumped to life. A smirking image of Jake’s face appeared on the screen. He was staring right at us.
“Do I look like an idiot?” the Jake image asked. “Hands off my computer!”
My hand jerked off the mouse, and I stepped back.
Kyle snorted. “It’s just a security screen,” he said.
“I should have seen that coming.” I pulled up another chair and shook off my nerves.
“Jake’s big head is pretty scary,” Kyle said, taking the mouse.
; “Password,” the image said.
“What do you think the password is?” Kyle asked.
“Try ‘arcticninja.’” I raised my eyebrows playfully at Kyle and he burst out laughing.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, I saw Jake type his password the other day when he was showing us the film on his laptop of Charlie back in the cave. He was so excited that he didn’t see me looking.” I smiled, satisfied that I got the jump on Jake.
“Very stealthy of you.” Kyle typed in the password, and we bypassed the security screen to Jake’s desktop. “Now we need to find the film,” Kyle said, and he started looking in different folders.
“I bet the files are date- and time-stamped,” I said. “Find the one for two a.m. on the day I was outside.”
“Wait,” said Kyle. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?” I asked, scanning the folder.
“It’s called the Icarus Project.”
“Everyone knows Icarus. Next to Achilles, he’s everyone’s favorite character from mythology.” I leaned forward to get a better look at what was inside of the project folder. “The winged boy who fell from the sky,” I said.
“Right. I love that myth. Icarus’s dad wanted to save his son from captivity and made him a pair of gigantic wings so he could fly over the prison walls. Except Icarus didn’t listen to his dad’s warning, because he was excited about flying, and he thought he knew better than his dad. He flew too close to the sun, and the wax holding the wings together melted. He plummeted to the sea and drowned,” Kyle said.
“So why would Jake have film footage marked ‘Icarus Project’?” I asked.
“Get this—the dates on these film clips go back for months, not days. Whatever they are, Jake’s been working on them for a long time.”
“Before we were even invited to the station, before we found Charlie. Open one.”
Kyle randomly clicked on a file. I leaned in to see what it contained, and a small video screen popped open and began to play. Randal was sitting in one of the leather chairs in his private library. His face was red and flushed, his hair a wild mane. A mug was clenched in his hands and he was taking long drinks of the steamy liquid between speeches. One thing about Randal was that he could talk and talk and talk. Here he was discussing a major sighting. He wasn’t sure what it was. He kept saying that it flew, that it had wings, and that it had come in the night.