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Alaska Adventure

Page 3

by Cynthia Baxter

“Come in,” answered a deep voice from within.

  Here goes, thought Mariah. She paused for a moment, smoothing her long black hair, hanging down her back in thick waves. Then she threw open the door and strode inside.

  Her first impression was that she’d stepped into an enclave of complete chaos. The metal shelving that lined two of the walls was covered with cheerful clutter, not only books and journals and stacks of papers, but also rocks, fossils, and the types of specimens she’d breezed past in the display cases. The large metal desk was similarly covered with disheveled piles of books and papers. A computer was pushed off to one side.

  Hanging over the desk, next to a bulletin board covered with photographs, newspaper articles, and Post-its with telephone numbers scrawled across them, was a large poster. On it was a photograph of a magnificent mountain range. Jagged black rock reached high into the sky, the pure white of the snow-covered peaks a startling contrast. Underneath, in bold letters, were the words “Alaska: The Last Frontier.”

  “Dr. Wells?” asked Mariah.

  “That’s me.”

  He sat at his desk, a stack of papers laid out before him. He was younger than she’d expected, probably in his thirties. Through wire-rimmed glasses peered a pair of piercing dark eyes. Thick, wavy black hair covered his head, curling just over his collar. He was dressed casually in a plaid flannel shirt, well-worn jeans, and a pair of scuffed brown leather boots.

  “I’m Mariah Burke. Dr. Lewis suggested I talk to you.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve been expecting you.”

  “You have?”

  “Nate Lewis called me this morning. Take a seat.”

  Mariah was suddenly uneasy. She could feel her confidence slipping away. She hadn’t expected Dr. Lewis, her genetics professor, to call ahead.

  He was the one who’d first told Mariah about Dr. Wells’s research project. Mariah was the star pupil in his class. The fact that she was also the only freshman in a class full of sophomores and juniors made her straight-A average even more outstanding.

  When Dr. Lewis had called Mariah into his office, she couldn’t imagine what he wanted to say.

  “Mariah,” Dr. Lewis began, taking off the thick glasses that he always wore during class, “I think you have an exciting future ahead of you. You are an excellent scientist. You quickly grasp even the most difficult concepts, your lab work is impeccable.. ..”

  Mariah was about to say “Thank you” when Dr. Lewis shook his head.

  “But there is something missing. You have no experience with the practical side of science. Everything you know, you’ve learned from books. There’s so much more to the natural world than what you can read about on the printed page.”

  Before she could defend herself, pointing out that a pre-med student majoring in biology had little need for anything other than book knowledge, Dr. Lewis handed her a Xerox copy of a journal article. “Have you met Dr. Wells?” he asked.

  Mariah shook her head.

  “Ah. That’s too bad. Ethan Wells is someone you should know.”

  She glanced at the title of the article, still not understanding. “ ‘Limnology of Three Small Lakes on the Kenai Peninsula, Alaska,’ ” she read aloud. With a shrug, she told him, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Limnology is the study of freshwater lakes and ponds. It’s just one of Dr. Wells’s interests, and one of the many areas he’s incorporating into the research project he’s conducting in the field this summer. He’s taking a group of students with him to Alaska. He’s running a project that involves really getting out there. Actually experiencing the world of science, Mariah, rather than simply observing it from afar. Being part of something like that is as different from studying science in a lab as ... as the difference between reading about Egypt and getting on a camel and traveling through the desert to the Great Pyramid.”

  Smiling, Dr. Lewis added, “I think you would benefit greatly from an experience like this.”

  Mariah’s first reaction had been one of horror. The idea of spending two months slogging around Alaska in a pair of hip boots, brandishing a spray can of insect repellent, was anything but appealing. But slowly it occurred to her that Dr. Lewis wasn’t really giving her much of a choice. He was Mountainville University’s pre-med advisor, advising undergraduate students who hoped to get into medical school one day, and she’d been hoping that he’d write her a glowing recommendation when it was time to apply.

  Then there was the issue of finding a way of making med schools sit up and take notice. A project like this might be just the thing she needed in a couple of years to distinguish her from the hundreds of other applicants to the most prestigious, competitive medical schools.

  Besides, she reasoned, if she went ahead and applied, and then wasn’t accepted as a member of Dr. Wells’s research team, at least she’d be able to go back to Dr. Lewis and tell him she’d tried. Then he’d keep her in mind when something more to her liking came along ... something she could do indoors, far away from mud and bugs and long days of strenuous effort.

  “Tell me a little about yourself,” Dr. Wells said congenially, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “Where are you from?”

  “Beverly Hills.” Automatically Mariah stuck her chin up a little higher. It was a defiant gesture she’d picked up since coming to school back east. Whenever people heard she was from one of the wealthiest sections of Los Angeles, they either teased her or, even worse, silently made their own assumptions. “My father, Oliver Burke, is a staff surgeon at the UCLA Biomedical Center.”

  “He’s a plastic surgeon, isn’t he?”

  Marian’s chin rose even higher. “Plastic surgery isn’t all nose jobs and tummy tucks, you know. He’s done groundbreaking work in the area of developing new techniques for grafting skin on burn victims—”

  “I know all about Dr. Oliver Burke’s revolutionary research,” Dr. Wells interrupted, nodding. “He’s come up with some impressive results. Is your mother in the medical field, as well?”

  “My mother died when I was ten,” Mariah said brusquely. As always, talking about anything the least bit personal made her fidgety. The idea of people knowing more about her than they had to made her feel vulnerable. In her eyes, it gave them an advantage.

  Even before Dr. Wells had a chance to react, she continued, “I have two older brothers who are following in my father’s footsteps. Peter’s in his second year of medical school at Columbia University and Todd is a resident at Peter Bent Brigham Hospital in Boston.”

  “And you, Mariah? Is that the direction in which you’re headed, as well?”

  “I plan to go to medical school.”

  What she didn’t add was, “If I get in.” She did think it, however. In fact, she thought about the uncertainty of her future all the time. Her father simply assumed she’d follow in his footsteps. As for her brothers, they’d been teasing her about how much better they were at just about everything ever since she was a little girl. In fact, Mariah was driven more by her determination to show her two big brothers she was every bit as good as they were than by wanting to impress her father. She was desperate to prove she was just as smart as they were, just as accomplished....

  In fact, when her boyfriend, Kurt, had chosen to stay in California and attend college at UCLA, she’d actually been a little relieved. This way, she reasoned, she’d be able to fly home to see him during school vacations, but she’d be free to concentrate on her studies during the year.

  “If it’s med school you’re heading for,” Dr. Wells was saying, “I’m not quite sure why this project of mine is of interest to you.”

  Mariah’s heart began pounding. She didn’t want to admit she wanted something outstanding to add to her record, something to impress not only Dr. Lewis but also the admissions directors at medical schools like Harvard and Columbia. She didn’t dare say that a summer doing research in Alaska was just the thing to make her applications stand out. So she took a deep breath before answering, measuring
her words carefully.

  “What I want most is to become a doctor. But I believe that in order to understand the human body, it’s crucial to understand the whole natural world. We are, after all, just one small part of it, another piece in a huge, complex puzzle.”

  “I see.” Dr. Wells was silent for a long time, staring at the stacks of papers and books piled up haphazardly on his desk. “Well, Mariah, I’ve already decided to include you in the project.”

  Mariah’s mouth dropped open. But before she had a chance to decide whether she was glad or disappointed, she heard someone else come into the room behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a tall, muscular young man leaning in the doorway of Dr. Wells’s office. He was quite good-looking, with even features, a thick head of curly dark blond hair, and striking blue eyes.

  He wore ripped jeans and a snug-fitting Mountainville University Athletic Department T-shirt. But what struck Mariah most was his arrogant demeanor.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said, looking Mariah up and down.

  For the first time since she’d come in, she felt self-conscious. Her expensive designer outfit suddenly seemed out of place here, a peculiar contrast to the jeans and casual shirts both he and Dr. Wells were wearing. In a nervous gesture, she pushed the row of solid gold bangle bracelets she was wearing up her arm.

  Casting him the coldest look she could manage, Mariah said, “Dr. Wells and I are discussing this summer’s research project in Alaska.”

  “Oh, yeah? What, are you covering this for the school paper or something?”

  “Marian’s a biology major, too,” said Dr. Wells.

  Trip laughed. “A regular Madame Curie, huh?”

  She could feel her cheeks turning red—not from embarrassment, but from anger. The last thing she was in the mood for was some cocky science jock putting down women in science, falling back on the cliché of comparing her to the best-known female scientist of all time.

  “Marie Curie was a physicist, not a biologist,” she said sharply. “I thought everyone knew that.”

  Dr. Wells cut in with, “I guess you two haven’t met before, so I’ll make this a formal introduction. Mariah Burke, this is Trip Raynor. Trip, Mariah. Trip’s a sophomore, Marian’s a freshman....” Dr. Wells shrugged. “Anything else you need to know, just ask.”

  Mariah hesitated before reaching out her hand to shake. Trip responded by folding his arms across his chest, peering down at her through his brilliant blue eyes. “How’re you doing, Mariah?”

  “Trip?” she repeated. “What kind of name is that?”

  “A nickname. My real name is Charles Edward Raynor ... the Third.” He shrugged. “Ever since I was a kid growing up in New York City, everybody forgot about the first three names .. . and concentrated on the fact that I was ‘the Third.’ “

  “Oh, I get it,” Mariah observed dryly. “Triple.”

  “Bright girl,” Trip said to Dr. Wells.

  “That’s enough, Trip,” the professor cut in.

  Mariah was tempted to launch into a tirade on exactly what she thought of arrogant young men like him who built themselves up by putting other people down— especially women. But she remained silent, not wanting to leave Dr. Wells with a bad impression.

  Instead, she said curtly, “Dr. Wells and I will be finished soon.”

  “Hey, if you two are talking about the trip to Alaska, count me in.” Trip had come into the office, sitting down on the edge of the metal desk.

  Slowly the meaning of his words sank in. “Don’t tell me you’re—

  “Grizzlies and black flies, here I come.” With so much ease and confidence that someone who didn’t know better might have thought this was his office, he planted his sneakered foot firmly in the middle of a vacant swivel chair.

  Mariah looked at Dr. Wells pleadingly. Perhaps she’d simply misunderstood....

  “That’s right,” the professor said. “Trip’s part of the field crew.”

  “Sounds like it’s you and me, babe,” Trip said lightly. Ignoring the icy look Dr. Wells cast him, he added, “Have you made your final decision about who else is coming?”

  “There’ll be five of you.” After spending a few seconds rummaging around the mound of books and papers on his desk, Dr. Wells retrieved a piece of paper. Referring to it, he said, “In addition to you two, I’ve got a freshman named Laurel Adams on board—”

  “Never heard of her,” Trip said loftily.

  Mariah stiffened. “I have.”

  Not only had she heard of Laurel Adams, she’d spent the entire year secretly competing with her. When Laurel was the only freshman picked to work on Dr. Ames’s research project, Mariah was furious. That was an honor that would have impressed even Harvard Medical School.

  “The daughter of one of my colleagues here at the university is also coming along. Her name is Cassandra Davis.”

  Trip frowned. “I don’t remember any Cassandras in any of my science courses.”

  “She’s taking mostly liberal arts courses.” In response to Mariah’s raised eyebrows, he added, “But I’m confident she’ll be a valuable contributor to the project.”

  “Who’s number five?” Mariah asked, anxious to move on.

  “Russell Corcoran. He’s—”

  “Oh, no!” Trip groaned dramatically. “Not Nature Boy!”

  “Nature Boy?” Mariah repeated.

  “That’s our nickname for him. He’s the kind of guy who’s perfectly at home in the woods but has a hard time carrying on a conversation with anyone of his own species.”

  “It’s true that Russ is sharp when it comes to science,” said Dr. Wells. “He grew up on a nature preserve, where his father was the station manager.”

  Mariah just shrugged. “Sounds like a pretty mixed bag, if you ask me.”

  “We’ve got a good cross section,” Dr. Wells agreed. “I think it’s going to work out well. When we combine everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, we should end up with a nicely balanced group.”

  “Wait a second.” Trip was counting on his fingers. “We’ve got Russ and me ... and three girls!”

  Mariah could feel her blood boil. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Gee, Dr. Wells, isn’t that kind of unfair? I mean, going off to Alaska to do research is an incredible opportunity. Why are you wasting it on so many girls? Speaking realistically, how many of them are actually going to go ahead and become real, working scientists?”

  Mariah opened her mouth, ready to launch a tirade against this Neanderthal whose ideas sounded as if they were rooted somewhere back in the nineteenth century. But before she could get the first word out, Dr. Wells interrupted, his voice soothing but firm.

  “Trip,” he said, “it’s important that we get one thing straight, right from the start. The six of us are going up to Alaska as a team. We’re going to be working closely together, every step of the way. That means we’ll be relying on each other. Things are going to come up all the time, things none of us can anticipate. We’re going to have to look out for each other—not only to make the project work, but also to make sure all of us come back home at the end of the summer, safe and sound.”

  Trip’s reaction was a casual shrug, accompanied by the offhanded comment, “Whatever you say.”

  As for Mariah, at the moment she was less concerned with whether or not the research team was going to work together harmoniously than with Dr. Wells’s comment about coming back home at the end of the summer, safe and sound. Involuntarily her eyes traveled across the room to the poster hanging above the professor’s desk.

  “Alaska,” it read. “The Last Frontier.” Mariah swallowed hard. She only hoped that being part of this research project wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake, offering more adventure than the daughter of a prominent Beverly Hills plastic surgeon could stand.

  Chapter Four

  “Okay. Let’s run through the list one more time, just to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything.” Dr. Wells stood outsid
e the run-down Bio Department van. The van was parked near the loading dock of the Life Sciences building and surrounded by so many suitcases, backpacks, sleeping bags, duffel bags, coolers, and other assorted items that it was hard to believe everything would fit.

  “First item: fish traps?”

  “Check,” called Trip, crouched inside the van.

  “Coolers?”

  “They’re over here,” Laurel replied, glancing over from where she was standing, next to a pile of gear sitting in the parking lot beside the van’s open-door side.

  “Scintillation vials, collecting bottles, thermometers, dip nets, Van Doren water sampler?”

  “Got those, too,” Trip reported.

  Cassie stood on the edge of the parking lot, her hands jammed deep inside the pockets of her nylon jacket as she watched. She knew she should volunteer to help. But ever since she’d arrived ten minutes earlier, she’d stood off to one side, squinting in the early morning June sun. She told herself she was waiting for someone to tell her what to do, since she didn’t want to be in the way. In truth, she was nearly paralyzed by the gnawing in the pit of her stomach. At that moment, she would have given anything to be back home in her own bed.

  Her mind was reeling. It’s not too late to back out, she thought. I don’t care what my parents think. I don’t care what Dr. Wells thinks. I can’t go through with this….

  “Hey, Cassie!” Dr. Wells suddenly called. “How about bringing your stuff over? We’ll start packing it into the van.”

  Glancing over in his direction, she saw that the professor was offering her a friendly smile. “Okay,” she returned.

  But before she had a chance to lean down and pick up her overstuffed duffel bag, a dilapidated car turned off the main road and into the parking lot, then headed over in their direction. For the moment, packing up the van was forgotten. Dr. Wells strolled over to greet whoever it was who’d arrived.

  “Russ! Good to see you!”

  “Hope I’m not late, Dr. Wells. Dwight had a little trouble getting his car started.”

  “No problem—especially since we can’t leave without him.” Leaning his head in through the open window, Dr. Wells added, “Thanks for volunteering to drive the van back from the airport, Dwight.”

 

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