I clutched the shoulder strap of my backpack and glued myself to Dad's side. I wasn't exactly afraid to fly, but the nerves and excitement had kicked in. We were flying to Montreal, Canada, and then on to Kuujjuaq, Nunavik, which was in the northern part of Quebec. Once up there, we'd take a helicopter to the base camp.
The first flight was uneventful, smooth as silk. Not the second flight. We were crammed inside a small commuter plane, and my whole body rumbled along with the engine and my teeth rattled in my head. The plane glided over the earth like a silver bird, and I watched the world float beneath my feet, rough as cement.
Wisps of torn white clouds drifted by my window.
White was the color of an open door. We had come to a frozen place of sky and ice. Seeing the pale surface, I realized I was entering a world that was almost colorless. My theories seemed shallow up here, hovering above the real world. Mom had said digging was a family trait, but colors were just surface traits. In the Arctic, if I wanted to find something, I was going to have to dig.
When I stepped onto the runway to catch the helicopter, a stinging coldness slapped me in the face, a wake-up cold. My nose started to run. Dad and I prepared to board the helicopter. The pilot's name was Justice, and he was an Inuit guide who also took care of Randal Clark's sled dogs. He wore mirrored aviator sunglasses, a black jumpsuit, and black lace-up boots.
"How long have you worked for Randal?" Dad asked him as our gear was being loaded into the back of the chopper.
"About four years. Since he came up here and set up shop. He's put a lot into his place. Living the dream." Justice smiled a big white toothy grin. White was now the color of charismatic pilot smiles.
"It's a big investment. Never know if it's going to pay off," Dad said.
"That's right." Justice handed me a piece of peppermint candy. "Ready to head out? You're gonna love it."
Two other passengers made their way over to the helicopter. While passing out headphones, Justice introduced them as Dr. Katsu Takahashi and Dr. Ivan Petrov. More scientists. Randal must be spending a fortune on this expedition.
Dad was going to sit up front with Justice, while I would be squeezed into the backseat between the two strangers. Dr. Petrov was Russian. He told us to call him Ivan. He had a peppery beard and a cracked front tooth, and there was a star-shaped scar next to his eye. I wondered if science was a rough profession in Russia. He slid into the chopper first and immediately buckled his seat belt. He clutched the armrest so hard, his knuckles turned white. And I thought I was the nervous one.
Dr. Takahashi was from Japan. He wore thick, round black glasses and nodded politely when our eyes met. After buckling his belt, he pulled off his gloves, took a tiny bottle of antibacterial gel out of his pocket, and squeezed a drop in his palm before he shook my hand. The sharp smell of alcohol tickled my nose.
Dad waved from the front seat. "Nice to meet you, Doctor Takahashi."
"Please call me Katsu. We will be friends and colleagues." His smile was kind, but his eyes dissected me like a surgical knife. He held a silver briefcase on his lap. He fiddled with the combination lock on the side. He saw me watching him. He patted the case. "The instruments of my trade are safe inside." I knew when he said instruments, he wasn't referring to an innocent flute or clarinet, but something sharper.
I shifted uncomfortably in the stiff seat, and our nylon coats rubbed together. My backpack weighed heavily on my lap. It was stuffed full of reference books on the Arctic. I had probably brought too many, but I wanted to be prepared. Books were my anchors.
"Maya is a pretty name," Katsu said in a casual tone. "Did you know that in my language my name means victory? I must live up to it. Victory always."
"Sounds like a motto—victory," Dad said.
"A motto. Yes, I am always victorious. You will see." He gripped the case. "We will have a great expedition."
What a strange thing to say. Dr. Victory was going to be an interesting person to watch on the trip.
The helicopter lifted off the ground and my stomach dropped. Just an arm's length away, the scenery pressed in, dizzying. There was nothing else around for miles except for the jagged icy teeth of the rugged landscape. It felt like the sky went on forever. Emptiness washed over me. We were so far away from… everything. The helicopter dipped. I gripped my knees and felt my teeth grinding. I hoped Justice would hurry up and get us to the base camp.
"You look a little green," Dad said, glancing back at me.
I gave him a weary smile. Green was now the color of airsickness, I guessed.
"Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It helps with equilibrium," Justice said. "Don't worry. You're safe with me."
My peppermint had dissolved, leaving my tongue coated in sticky sweetness. I didn't want to think about my tongue or my mouth or what might come out of my mouth if he didn't land the helicopter soon. Ivan gnawed on his gum and when he caught me looking at him, he pointed at his ears, buried under thick furry earmuffs on top of his headphones and said, "Popping," and kept on smacking his gum.
After about twenty minutes Justice motioned to the ground. Our destination appeared below us: an outcropping of rectangular wooden buildings that were linked together. From the air, they looked like a lost herd of caribou. There was a landing pad built for the helicopter—a big red X—that would be our main way in and out of the station.
Finally, we descended. It felt like the ground rushed up to meet us, even though we were floating downward. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the seat.
"Takes a few days to get used to the environment up here. But you'll acclimate," Justice said as he set the chopper down, soft as a metal feather.
A man wearing a black snowsuit with a silver Clark Expeditions patch on the front waved us into the nearest building. Once we were all inside, he shook everyone's hand and introduced himself as West Higgins, Randal Clark's assistant. West had a full brown beard and a sharp crew cut. His face was rugged, reddened from the cold and wind, and he chewed on his chapped lips.
West led us through the main building, which held some offices and the communication center, a room with a radio, satellite hookup, and computers. West kept calling this room "the comm." On the way from the comm center, we passed by a closed door. West stopped abruptly and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He waited for us all to gather around him before he spoke.
"Randal wants you all to feel at home. His station is your station, and you should come and go as you please. But there is one area that is off-limits." West rapped on the door with his battered knuckles. "And this, my friends, is it. This room is Randal's private room. No one is allowed in, ever. Do I make myself clear?"
"Of course," Dad said, and nudged me.
"Yes, sir," I said, my curiosity piqued.
West continued down the hallway, but I lingered, letting the rest of the group go on ahead. Dad held back and put his arm around me.
"Why do you think Randal has a secret room?" I whispered to him, glancing back at the door.
He shrugged. "I don't think it's a secret. Just a private place for him. I'm sure it's a library with leather chairs and a fireplace. He probably has shelves filled with books."
"Hmm. Then why not say that? Why was West so gruff about the room being off-limits?" I shifted on my snow boots, my backpack growing heavier by the second.
"I don't know. But it's Randal's station. He's entitled to his own space."
"I guess…" But if Randal wanted the room to be off-limits, telling people to stay out was one way to make them want to see what was inside. "You're probably right," I said. "But I'm still curious."
The group was about to turn the corner up ahead. Katsu caught my eye and held my stare for a second too long. The silver case was still in his hand, hanging by his side, and I wondered if he had a secret, too.
Dad motioned me forward. "Come on. Let's catch up before they leave without us. I don't want to miss anything."
When we exited the main building and headed for the next, West reached down and grabbed a blue cord. "Rope line," he said over his shoulder. "Best get used to holding on to them, even when it's not windy. It's a good habit."
He looked at me. "You don't want to blow away in a storm. The snow and wind come on fast and can blind you and blow you around like a petal on the wind."
I pictured a bunch of pink petals blowing across the icy landscape. West didn't look like the kind of guy who got pushed around a lot by anything, including the wind, so I decided to listen to him.
"Even going a short distance?" I asked as I grabbed the line. The blue lines fanned out from each building, connecting them in a spidery blue web.
"Especially. The cold is a monster. It will swallow you up in a second."
Next, he showed us a state-of-the-art medical facility and the laboratories where my dad and the other scientists would be doing most of their work. As we toured the science lab, it became obvious that the station was totally decked out with tons of fancy equipment and supplies. Randal Clark had spared no expense. Dad's eyes practically glazed over in awe. I had never seen him so excited. I just hoped he didn't start drooling. This place was like summer camp for science nerds.
Dad and I followed West single file to the next building, where the bunk area was located. We stopped to "stow our gear," as West said. He carried himself with a stiff-backed military bearing that I found comforting. He dropped my bag outside a room and pointed a gnarled finger to the empty bunk bed. "You'll be bunking in here with Dr. Karen Gardner. She arrived yesterday with her son, Kyle."
He turned to Dad and the other two scientists. "The rest of you are down the hall. Men at one end and women at the other."
So Dad and I had separate rooms. "I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you," he said, and followed West down the corridor.
My room had a bunk bed pushed against one wall and a single bed against the other. The doctor had already unpacked her things, and it looked like she had been working at the small desk in the corner. Notebooks covered its surface. I tossed my backpack on the bed of the bottom bunk and my suitcase on the floor. A bag of knitting needles and balls of yarn sat next to Karen's bed. I knelt down and fingered a woolly thread.
The room was warm. My scalp was beginning to sweat, so I pulled off my hat, setting my braids free and my bangs shooting upward in an awkward hat-head style.
Next thing I knew, a boy about my age walked into the room. He had dark wavy hair that peeked out from under a baseball cap that he wore backward. A brightly colored knitted scarf was wrapped around his neck about three times and still trailed down past his knees.
"Hey, I'm Kyle," he said casually, shoving his hands in his pockets. He had a stuffed polar bear buried under one arm. I was surprised he didn't say anything about my hair right away. "Have you seen my mom?"
"Your mom?" I said.
"Yeah, you're sharing this room with her." Kyle plopped down on her bed.
"Oh, right." Dad hadn't mentioned there was going to be another kid here. "No. I haven't seen her. We just flew in. I'm Maya. Here with my dad." I loosened my scarf. The room was a million degrees.
"Is your dad the paleontologist guy? 'Cause I'm in his room." He tossed the bear from one hand to the other. His blue-eyed gaze stayed on me.
"That's him," I answered, and then I said the first thing that came to mind. "My dad snores, so better you than me."
Kyle grinned and turned his attention to his mom's bed. He pulled down the covers and hid the bear under the bedspread and the pillow.
"Nice bear," I said, running out of topics of conversation in record time.
"My mom and I have a standard joke. We travel a lot, and she likes to have a mascot for each trip." Kyle focused on perfectly concealing the stuffed animal. "Then we try and hide the mascot in each other's stuff without the other one knowing. She snuck it in my suitcase and got me this time." He rolled his eyes. "She's into that kind of thing."
"That's cool. What's his name?" I asked while pretending to organize my backpack and shoving my suitcase under the bed.
"I call him Bear. He's a simple guy." Kyle smoothed out the spread and stretched back on the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head. "Not very original. Don't let on that the bear's there, OK?"
"I won't." I smiled. "She'll be surprised when she goes to sleep tonight."
"So is this your first trip?" He stared at my backpack, which was practically bursting at the seams with books.
I cringed. "Does it show?" A half-dozen spiral notebooks spilled out of my pack. I had brought too much stuff. Overprepared, as usual.
"A little. I'm not a book guy myself. More of a seat-of-my-pants type."
"It's for school. To stay caught up while I'm here."
"I'm in the school of life," he countered. "I call it adventure ed." He adjusted his baseball cap.
"Sounds more like a vacation."
"It makes school fun. Plus, I travel all the time. You'll like it here, out in the field." He shrugged. It was obvious that he was trying not to stare at me, but he finally gave up. "Nice hair," he said. "I've never seen anyone with white hair before. I mean, old ladies, sure, but no one young."
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw my freaky-looking bangs sticking up in all directions. My stomach plummeted. The bright whiteness alone would cause stares, to say nothing of the wild angles. I grabbed my hat off the bed and resisted the urge to pull it back on. "Well, before you ask, yes, it's real. And, no, I am not an albino or fairy spawn. And, no, I am not aging backward like Brad Pitt in that movie. It's just white. Really white. But I'm human. Really, nothing special or strange about me."
Human? Did I just say that I was human? Who says that?
He smiled. "Are you sure you aren't a fairy? 'Cause that would be cool."
"I wish." I blushed, relieved that he didn't think my hair was too weird.
"And at least now I know you're human."
That was a dumb thing to say. I'm human. Duh. Way to break the ice.
Luckily, West came into the room at that moment and saved me from additional embarrassment. "Good, you two have met. You can unpack later. Randal wants to meet with everyone in the mess hall for introductions before dinner." Quickly, I shoved my hat back on and tucked my braids up.
West led us down the hall to join the others. Dad raised his eyebrows at me when he saw the boy, but I just shrugged.
"We're roomies," Kyle said, reaching out his hand to Dad. "I'm Kyle."
"Please call me Jason," Dad said, and then he winked at me.
Katsu and Ivan shared the room across the hall from Dad and Kyle. We waited for them to finish organizing their stuff, and then we all fell in line behind West.
He took us past a recreation room that was decked out with a wide-screen television and video games. A pool table and a Ping-Pong table were surrounded by comfy-looking couches. I had a feeling I'd be spending a lot of time there. "Looks like you won't be bored," Dad said, elbowing me. He had a goofy smile on his face. It was clear the station blew his expectations out of the water.
The mess hall was buzzing with activity. The welcome dinner had been prepared, and the smell of cooked food made my stomach growl. A long buffet table was loaded down with grilled fish, piles of roasted potatoes and vegetables, bowls filled with wild rice, and an entire tray of chocolate cupcakes. I wanted to run to the table and dive in, but I had to wait. Chair legs scraped the floor as people stood when we entered the room.
Randal strode forward. He looked exactly like his photo online, just as suave and dashing as a billionaire adventurer should be. He was tall, with broad, squared shoulders, and his hair and beard were flecked with gray, which made him look even more distinguished. He had sparkling green eyes and a disarming smile. He spread out his arms and welcomed us in a voice that boomed over the low chatter.
"I want to take a moment to welcome everyone here to my kingdom." A hushed silence spread over the room. "This station is the little place I call home. And for the next month, the station is your home, too. I want you all to feel like family." Warmth and sincerity oozed from him.
Everyone clapped. His enthusiasm spread through the room like electricity. Even I was thrilled to be a part of the expedition. I almost blushed. Dad shook Randal's hand, and then we found seats at the table.
"Introductions are in order. You've all met Justice, my pilot and dog trainer, and West, my right-hand man. We also have our medical doctor, Doctor Kernel." Randal motioned to a woman with blond hair pulled up high on her head in a tight bun. She nodded and smiled.
"This is my nephew, Jake, our resident film student. He will be following everyone around with his camera, filming the expedition for a documentary he's making. He may be only eighteen years old, but he is very accomplished."
Jake was tall and skinny and wore a heavy fisherman's sweater and had a black scarf wrapped around his neck. He was down on one knee, filming his uncle making the introductions. The camera made me pause. I hated getting my picture taken and quickly decided that I would do my best to steer clear of Jake and his camera.
"Doctors Ivan Petrov and Katsu Takahashi." Randal gestured to the Russian and Japanese scientists who had flown in with us.
Katsu waved his hand as if he were on a float in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and smiled broadly. Ivan simply nodded and grunted. I got the feeling that Ivan didn't like attention, either.
Next, Randal introduced Dr. Karen Gardner and Kyle. Karen was an anthropologist. She was petite and had a wild mane of curly auburn hair that poked out of a colorful beret that looked like she had knitted herself.
"Now, please welcome Doctor Jason Parson and his daughter, Maya. Doctor Parson is our resident mammoth expert and will be leading the exploration tomorrow with Doctors Gardner and Petrov."
Dad waved to everyone, but I noticed his eyes widen. He hadn't mentioned to me that he was heading up the project, and from his expression, I don't think he knew, either. Strange that he hadn't been told. Heading the expedition seemed to be an important detail, one that should not have been left out until we had arrived. But I knew Dad could handle it.
With the introductions finished, we all headed over to the buffet table to get some of the delicious-looking food. Dad and I sat with Karen and Kyle. Karen was a fast-talking dynamo. She chatted about her studies throughout dinner. Film student Jake sat with us for only a few moments while he wolfed down some food. He put the camera down just long enough to eat his dinner, and even then he held it in his lap the whole time.
Dad turned to Kyle. "So we'll be sharing a room," he said. "Are you in school?"
"School's overrated," Kyle said, shoveling food into his mouth. "Experience is what matters."
"Homeschooled," Karen answered. "We travel a lot."
"And he's allergic to books," I said. Kyle had the too-cool-for-school vibe down, but I suspected he was smart, too, what with all the traveling he did with his mom. Seeing the world had its perks. He had probably been to exotic locations and had tons of adventurous stories. Then I saw that the two fingers on Kyle's left hand were missing, the pinky and ring finger. He noticed me looking and said, "Shark attack."
I laughed, even though it's not funny to be attacked by a shark, because I realized he was kidding. He slipped his hand under the table when Jake looked over, suddenly interested in what we were talking about.
After we had eaten, Randal stood to again address the group. Jake hurried over to a computer console and started pushing buttons. He put on a headset and motioned to his uncle when he was ready, at which point Randal began to speak. His deep voice resonated throughout the room. "I want to let you all know how exciting it is to have such a distinguished team assembled for this important expedition, and I am sorry that there has been so much secrecy around the find."
A buzzing sound focused our attention as a wide screen slowly descended from the ceiling. The lights dimmed. "Adult mammoth tusks have been found protruding from the ice," Randal said, "and I believe that they are still attached to the beast."
Excited chatter filled the room. An image flashed up on the screen. Two huge mammoth tusks curved upward from the side of an icy wall. Karen gasped. Everyone clapped. I couldn't look away. I grabbed Dad's hand under the table. This was what he had waited his whole life to be a part of—a real mammoth discovery! He squeezed my hand, but his eyes never left the image of the giant tusks.
Next a series of pictures flashed slowly across the screen. I had to admit that Jake was pretty good. The images of the tusks and the dig site were awesome.
Dad's attention was riveted to the screen. "Who found the mammoth?" he asked.
I saw Randal's gaze dart over to Jake for a quick second before he answered. "A local Inuit, who would like to remain anonymous. Superstitious, doesn't want any attention drawn to him or his family."
"Oh, I see," Dad said.
Randal cleared his throat. "A secure dig site has been established at the mammoth and is protected against poachers and wild animals. The carcass is safe and sound."
Both Dad and Karen nodded.
The thought of animals eating a dead carcass that had been frozen in the ice for tens of thousands of years made my stomach roll over.
"I don't see a carcass," I whispered to Dad. "How will wild animals get to it if it's buried in the ice?" I asked.
"Shh, Maya. Let the man speak. Randal knows what he's doing."
In all the pictures that Jake projected, not one of them showed the actual mammoth. The tusks looked cool, but I wanted to see the woolly creature inside the ice, and so far all we had gotten were dramatic aerial shots of the excavation site and those giant curling tusks.
"Maintaining the integrity of the site has been of the utmost importance," Randal said.
Then he told us that we would be going to the site tomorrow "to inspect the find and assess the process moving forward." He concluded by saying, "Our goal is to remove the creature for study."
Dad was taking notes in a small field notebook. His brow was knitted and his lips were pursed. I had a feeling something was wrong, but I didn't want to ask in front of everyone. I nudged his arm. He sighed, deep in thought.
"How about we gather in the laboratory to discuss tomorrow's events further?" Randal said. "Perhaps the young ones would like to explore the games in the recreation room. No need for them to listen to all the details, since they will be staying here at the station."
"Not going?" I whispered to Dad. My stomach sank. How was I supposed to experience my first expedition if I was stuck here at the station? I needed to get to where the action was—and playing video games wasn't the kind of action I was hoping for.
"We'll talk about it later," Dad said. "You and Kyle can stay here and man the fort. Now head on over to the game room."
I don't know why I was surprised to learn that Kyle and I were not going. We had to stay behind and man the fort. This was the most annoying statement ever and clearly was code for stay out of the way and fill your time with meaningless tasks like watching movies, playing games, and having fun. I didn't want to sit around with a guy I didn't know and "have fun." I wanted to go on an adventure. I wanted to be a part of the discovery, feel the excitement. How was I supposed to prove myself if I couldn't even get to the expedition site? That's what I came for—not to stay behind.
Dad gave me one of his stern don't-argue-with-me looks. Complaining was not an option. Neither was begging, and whining was utterly forbidden. No matter what I said, Dad wasn't going to let me go.
"It's not fair," I blurted out. Kyle and I had been banished to the recreation room, which wasn't total torture. There was a dartboard and a pile of board games, but after the tenth game of Ping-Pong—I was winning, 6—4 (though I suspected that Kyle threw a couple of those games to be nice)—I was done playing games. "What's the point of being here if Randal won't let us near the site?" I said, and collapsed down onto the sofa. "We could be helpful. We're like free labor and can be assistants."
"Patience. It's just the first day." Kyle scooped up a pile of darts and sent one sailing toward the board.
"I bet Randal doesn't take us seriously. He doesn't realize how important this is to us," I said, letting my body sink into the sofa cushion.
"Just wait. We'll get our chance out there."
"How can you be so sure?" I asked.
"Because when an expedition starts, everyone goes by the book—follows protocol and stuff. But expeditions take time, and once people are settled in, protocols relax. Then we'll be able to go to the site." Kyle nodded reassuringly.
"I hope you're right."
"I'm always right." He aimed and launched another dart, and this time he hit the bull's-eye.
I sat up with a spark of energy. "Hey, we could do some work in the lab while they're away, to prove that we're willing to work hard. Pay our dues. That kind of thing."
Kyle's eyes went wide. "Hold on." He put his hands up. "I'm staying away from the lab and any kind of work for as long as possible. Who wants to stay cooped up in a lab all day?"
"Well, if we can't go to where the action is, then I do." I wanted to prove to everyone that I was serious about this expedition, and I knew I could do that with work.
"Knock yourself out, bookworm." Kyle pulled the darts out of the board.
"I will," I said. "And what's wrong with liking books?"
"Nothing. I just didn't know a bookworm could survive in the Arctic."
I rolled my eyes, refusing to let him get a rise out of me. "Do you think it's weird? That we know so little about who found the mammoth and how?" I asked.
"Scientists are territorial, especially with finds. That mammoth could be worth a lot of money. Randal's a businessman, so, no, I don't think it's strange at all." A dart sailed into the board.
"But Randal is a billionaire. It's not like money matters to him." I slipped off my boots and curled up on the sofa.
"Maybe he wants to do something important that's remembered and written about. Fossils are sometimes named after the person who finds them. He wants glory."
"Like the Adams mammoth." I had to throw in some of my mammoth knowledge, so Kyle knew I was serious. "He'll call it the Clark mammoth."
"Right," Kyle said.
"Are you into mammoths?" I asked, before realizing that was the nerdiest thing ever. I hoped he said no. Not that Dad was a dork or anything—not that I was a dork, either.
"They're pretty cool, I guess. Finding a whole one would be pretty wild." He looked over at me and tilted his head.
"Tell me about your hand," I said before he could ask me a question. "What happened? It wasn't really a shark attack, was it?"
Kyle was silent. He twirled the darts in his good hand. "It's nothing." He looked away. "Just a car accident. I don't want to talk about it." He turned his back on me and tossed a dart at the board. It bounced off and landed on the arm of the sofa.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"No problem. I still managed to kick your butt in Ping-Pong."
"I knew you were letting me win," I said.
Karen appeared in the doorway. "Hey, you two. Having fun?" She smiled wearily. Her eyes were glassy. "Time for bed."
"Mom," Kyle said, "it's early."
"Time to go to your room and at least pretend you are sleeping while you read or play a computer game," she said.
"All right." Kyle sighed and started to put the darts away. "For you, Doctor Gardner." He kissed his mom on the cheek.
"Maya, your dad asked that I tell you to settle in also. He's speaking with Randal, lining up the schedule for the dig tomorrow. He said tomorrow you could try and contact your mom on the computer if you wanted."
"Great. See you tomorrow, Kyle."
The month was just beginning, and I hoped Kyle was right—that there would be plenty of time to make discoveries.
