The Arctic Code

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The Arctic Code Page 8

by Matthew J. Kirby


  “You going to let us in?” Luke said. “Or do we have to wait out the storm in your air lock?”

  Felipe opened his door wide. “Bienvenidos.”

  Eleanor followed Luke through the door, and they entered a large space filled with snowmobiles and other vehicles, most of them partly disassembled. Machine parts, tools, and lots of equipment Eleanor didn’t recognize covered the ground and the walls, and the air inside smelled greased. It seemed Felipe was a mechanic.

  “Looks like business is good,” Luke said.

  Felipe chortled. “I wish. Most of these have been sitting here for months. Their owners can’t pay, and until they do, I’m not putting them back together. Back home, I would have already sold them to get them out of my shop, but up here, there’s no one to buy them.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Luke said.

  “Could be worse.” Felipe shrugged and smiled. “I could be dead.”

  Eleanor grinned at that.

  “We need a place to spend the night,” Luke said.

  “Consuelo?” Felipe asked.

  “G.E.T. pulled her out of the storm into their hangar. She’s locked up tight until tomorrow.”

  “I see.” Felipe turned to Eleanor. “I named his plane, you know. After my sister. She lives in Phoenix.”

  “That’s where I live,” Eleanor said, and as the words came out, she felt a surprising wave of homesickness break over her.

  “I like Phoenix,” Felipe said. “Sometimes, I wish I could live there. But my sister would probably turn me in.”

  Turn him in for what? Eleanor resisted the temptation to ask.

  “Please,” Felipe said. “Take off your gear. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said.

  Felipe led them to a corner of the shop he had partitioned with makeshift walls, creating the space where it seemed he lived. He had a cot, a small refrigerator, a cookstove, and underneath it all, a dingy woven rug. Something simmered on the stove. It smelled like chili.

  “It’s canned,” Felipe said. “But you’re welcome to have some.”

  With the smell and offer of food, Eleanor realized that she was starving. She ate her bowl quickly, and the chili’s heat, both from the spices and the stove, warmed her through. After they’d finished eating, and Felipe had washed the bowls, they settled in. Felipe rounded up a few extra blankets for Luke, and as Eleanor unrolled her sleeping bag, Luke nudged her over, placing his blankets between her and Felipe’s cot.

  A short while later, everyone in bed, Eleanor lay awake in the darkness, listening to the storm tearing at the Quonset hut outside. The earlier homesickness lingered, and right now, more than anything, she wished she could be in her own room, in her own warm bed. Uncle Jack would be on the couch downstairs. Her mom would . . . It hit Eleanor then that even if she were back in Phoenix right now, her mom wouldn’t be. She’d still be lost on the ice, in this very storm, at the top of the world.

  “You awake, kid?” Luke whispered in the darkness beside her.

  “Yes.”

  Felipe let out a snore from his cot.

  “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What would Felipe’s sister turn him in for?”

  He was silent.

  “Luke?”

  “The world’s become a crazy place, kid. People do all kinds of things to get by. To survive. Not all those things are legal. Hard to say whose fault that is, really.”

  Eleanor had certainly broken her share of laws that day. When she looked at everything she’d done from the outside—how Jenna or Claire might see it—she almost couldn’t believe she was here, sleeping on the floor of a snowmobile mechanic’s shop in Barrow, Alaska. She really was a freak. And yet, she felt entirely justified in every choice she’d made.

  But it hadn’t been enough. Barrow had defeated her almost as soon as she’d arrived. If Luke hadn’t come, it might have robbed her or worse. Eleanor had hoped to somehow get to her mom quickly, before the storm, but realized now how stupid that hope had been. What could she accomplish in the face of such hostility, both from the Arctic and its inhabitants? Who did she think she was? She had failed.

  That thought, and the howling wind, followed her into sleep.

  CHAPTER

  10

  ELEANOR AWOKE TO THE SMELL OF BACON AND EGGS FRYING. Felipe stood at the stove, working the spatula, while Luke sat nearby, pulling on his boots. The storm outside didn’t sound like it was even thinking about giving up. Eleanor sat upright, rubbed her eyes, and stretched. Her sleep had been heavy, and it took a few groggy moments of blinking to haul her mind to full alertness.

  “I’m telling you,” Felipe said, “something is going on.”

  “It’s the G.E.T.,” Luke said. “Something is always going on.”

  Felipe shook his head and grabbed a plate. “This is different.” He served up a scoop of scrambled eggs, laid on a couple of slices of bacon, and passed the plate to Luke. “A few weeks ago, they cleaned house, fired all the contract drillers. It’s all salary men from down south now. People up here are hurting.”

  Eleanor wondered if that had anything to do with the reason her mom had begun working with the G.E.T., that oil deposit Uncle Jack had mentioned.

  “Maybe they’re just trying to make their operations legitimate.” Luke took a bite of his eggs. “It’s about time.”

  “Maybe.” Felipe dished up another plate the same way and brought it to Eleanor.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Felipe nodded. “But there’s more. Guys are seeing stuff out on the ice. Hard guys who’ve seen everything. And they’re spooked, man.”

  “What are they seeing?” Luke asked.

  Felipe sat down on his cot. “Wolves. A pack of wolves, man.”

  At that, the last veil of Eleanor’s tiredness fell away.

  Luke stopped chewing. “That’s impossible. A pack of wolves can’t survive out there.”

  Eleanor agreed with him. Nothing could survive out there. A lot of Arctic species had gone extinct soon after the Freeze set in, and the rest had slowly migrated south. There were now polar bears swimming in the Great Lakes.

  “I’m telling you,” Felipe said, “they’re seeing wolves. Not only that, but they say that sometimes, they see the wolves pulling a hunter on a sled.”

  “Come on—” Luke laughed and almost choked on his food. “They’re just messing with you.”

  “Not these guys.” Felipe shook his head. “One of them won’t even go out there anymore. He hasn’t worked the drills in weeks.”

  “What do you think they’re seeing?” Eleanor asked.

  “I think it’s ghosts,” Felipe said.

  “Ghosts.” Luke put his plate down. “You’re serious? Ghosts?”

  Felipe sat up straight and gave an emphatic nod. “Yes. The ghost of an Inupiat hunter, maybe. And this one guy said he saw something else.”

  The Inupiat had been an Arctic people, before the ice had driven them south like everyone else. Eleanor leaned closer. She hadn’t taken a single bite of her food. “What else did he see?”

  “He didn’t know,” Felipe said. “He was in a storm. Not as bad as this one, but he couldn’t see well. He just said it was big. Something very big. He was too scared to get close to it.”

  “Bigfoot,” Luke said. “Gotta be Bigfoot.”

  Felipe scowled. “You’re a pilot. You land, spend a couple of days in town, and then you take off. What do you know about the Arctic?”

  “I know what minus a hundred degrees Celsius means,” Luke said. “It means the only things living out there are bacteria and viruses.”

  Eleanor knew Luke was right. Her mom’s scientist voice had managed to become a part of her thoughts over the years. But she wanted to believe Felipe’s stories, too. She looked down at her plate, remembered her food, and took a bite of bacon.

  “You like it?” Felipe asked her.

  “Who doesn’t like bacon?” Eleanor said.

 
; “True, true.” He turned to Luke. “Why is she with you, anyway?”

  Luke shrugged. “Ask her. I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  Felipe looked at her.

  Eleanor finished chewing and swallowed. “My mom works for one of the oil companies up here. She’s missing. I came up to find her.”

  “That’s your mother? That geologist?”

  “Yeah,” Eleanor said. “Wait—you’ve heard about her?”

  “It’s all over town. The G.E.T. has been recruiting volunteers for the search.”

  That gave Eleanor hope. She stood up, her sleeping bag sliding down to her feet. “Have they found anything?”

  Felipe scratched his head. “I’m sorry. Not that I’ve heard.”

  Eleanor dismissed any discouragement that might have caused, because what he’d said had given her an idea. “Where do they recruit the volunteers?”

  “At the claims office,” Felipe said. “But they won’t be searching in this storm.”

  It still seemed worth a try to check it out, especially since Eleanor had wanted to go there yesterday. She turned to Luke. “I’m going.”

  Luke put his hands behind his head, arched his back over his chair, and looked up at the ceiling. He held that position for a moment and then released it with an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go with you. We’re grounded, anyway.”

  Eleanor hurried into her gear while Luke did the same more slowly. Felipe switched on some classical music and went to work on the engine of a snowmobile. As they were about to leave, he called to Luke, then met them at the door with a rag in his hand.

  “You need?” He unwrapped the rag, revealing a small revolver.

  Luke gave his chest a pat. “Got it covered.”

  Felipe nodded and opened the door for them. Eleanor walked through, but the casual routineness of that moment disturbed her, a reminder of where they were and what had happened the day before. She paused in the air lock, grateful for Luke at her side.

  Luke put his mask on. “You all right?”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t thank me yet.”

  “No, really. Thank you.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “C’mon, kid, don’t get all mushy. Let’s just do this, okay? Put your mask on.”

  Eleanor did what he asked and then slung her pack over her shoulders. Luke opened the outer door, and the storm invaded the air lock as if it had been waiting for the opportunity. Luke led the way outside, and Eleanor pushed after him, closing the air lock behind her.

  The town looked the same as it had the previous day, except for the additional two feet of snow that had piled up in the streets, with storm-blown banks even higher than that against the buildings. With the wind trying to take her down, and the snow up to her knees, the walk to the claims office was arduous.

  “Walk in my footsteps!” Luke called over the wind.

  He plowed ahead, opening up the snow with his bigger boots, making the trek a bit easier for her. They passed several streets and dozens of buildings without seeing anyone else. But they crossed a few trails of fading footprints, which the storm now worked hard to scrub out.

  Before long, they reached the claims office. Luke opened the door and waited until Eleanor was through before he entered and shut it behind them.

  Eleanor stamped the snow off her legs and boots, then removed her mask. “We made it.”

  “Just another day at the North Pole,” Luke said, taking off his own mask. He pointed at the inner door. “After you.”

  Eleanor opened it and stepped into a building that looked like it blended a police station with a doctor’s office. Men in camouflage military uniforms stood guard, armed with guns a lot bigger than Luke’s pistol, while behind the front counter, through a set of glass sliding doors, a handful of men worked in lab coats at their desks.

  The counter had a buzzer, which Eleanor pushed, because the expressionless military guys didn’t give the impression of being very amenable to answering her questions. One of the lab-coat guys looked up at the sound of the buzzer, saw Eleanor and Luke, and came to the sliding glass doors. They opened with a whoosh, and he stepped through.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Eleanor Perry. I’m here about my mom.”

  The man’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry. Who did you say you were?”

  “Eleanor Perry. Dr. Perry’s daughter.”

  His eyes widened. “Good Lord! What on earth are you doing here? Why did—? How did you—? I don’t—” The words stopped, but his mouth hung open.

  “That about sums it up,” Luke said.

  “I came to help find my mom,” Eleanor said. “I heard they recruit the search parties here.”

  “That’s true, they—” The man blinked and shook his head. “Eleanor? That was your name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does the research station know you’re here?”

  “No,” Eleanor said.

  The man nodded. “Let me go radio them. I’m sure they’ll want to know. I’ll be right back. Okay?”

  This was exactly what Eleanor had hoped for. “Okay,” she said. She didn’t know who she could trust up here, aside from Luke. Her best and only option would be her mother’s Sohn International coworkers, people she’d known for years, but Eleanor would have to keep the Sync hidden, even from them.

  The man hurried through the sliding doors, leaving Eleanor and Luke alone with the military guys, who didn’t appear to have moved.

  “Hey,” Eleanor said to the nearest one, her mood lifting higher than it had in a couple of days.

  He gave her an almost imperceptible nod in reply but said nothing.

  Eleanor leaned toward Luke and whispered, “Why are they here? What’s a claims office, anyway?”

  “This is where they test oil samples and authorize drilling claims,” he said. “If a prospector hears something he doesn’t like on either score, things can get dangerous.”

  “Oh.”

  A few moments later, the sliding doors whooshed open again. “Okay,” the lab-coat guy said, “I spoke with the station, and they’re sending an armored transport for you.”

  Eleanor nearly jumped. “Really? When?”

  “Right now,” the man said. “They should be here in an hour.”

  This was the best possible outcome. Eleanor would be able to help in the search, perhaps even find a way to use the information her mother had sent, if she could do so without revealing the Sync. And she’d be much safer out at the research station with her mom’s coworkers than she was here in Barrow. Then, as soon as the storm lifted, Luke would be able to leave without worrying about her.

  They waited there at the office, and a little under an hour later, the lab-coat guy returned to let them know the transport had reached the city perimeter and would be out front shortly.

  Eleanor gathered her things and rushed through the door, into the air lock. She’d reached the outer door and was about to open it when Luke called to her.

  “Hold on, kid!”

  She looked back at him.

  He was putting his mask on. “Forgetting something?”

  “Oh, right. But the transport is just—”

  “Always put your mask on. Arctic Code. You promised you’d do whatever I told you, and I’m telling you to do this.”

  Eleanor groaned but did what he asked. After she had put on her mask, and then her pack, she opened the door and felt instantly glad she’d listened to him as the storm rushed inward, clawing at her face. Eleanor shouldered her way through it and went outside. Luke followed, and a moment later, he pointed down the street, through the blizzard.

  “I think I see it.”

  Eleanor squinted, and then she saw it too. An indistinct shadow, which grew larger and more defined as it came closer. The sound of its engine and the grinding of its tread soon reached her over the roar of the storm, and then, like a whale breaching the ocean surface, the transport lunged fully into view.

>   It looked to Eleanor like a long, narrow tank, but without the gun, made to withstand this environment in the same way the buildings of Barrow had been. It charged through the snow toward them, and Eleanor waited off to the side until it skidded to a halt before her.

  That was when she saw the painted decal, and a sudden panic sent her a step backward.

  This was a G.E.T. transport.

  Eleanor should have expected this, if she’d stopped to think about it. Her mom had apparently been working with the G.E.T., and they were the ones now searching for her. But she’d naively expected that the transport would be someone from her mom’s old company. Not the very people she was trying to avoid. Stupid, stupid.

  “That’s quite a ride,” Luke said.

  Eleanor stared at the letters. “Yeah.”

  A hatch on the transport opened, and a G.E.T. crewman leaned out, waving his arm in a rapid pinwheel, motioning Eleanor aboard. She hesitated but quickly realized she had no other option than to climb in. She couldn’t stay in Barrow, and now her mom’s station knew she was here. She turned to say good-bye to Luke, but he’d taken a step toward the transport, as if he meant to join her.

  “Are you coming?” she asked.

  “Figured I could help with the search,” he said. “Got nothing else to do until the storm passes. Besides, if something happens to you before you find your mom, it’s on me.”

  She smiled behind her mask, happy for his company, and wondered when that had changed. Through the hatch, Eleanor entered a cramped compartment, with a row of seats along both walls, facing one another. She let herself fall into one of the seats, and Luke took the one next to her.

  The transport was empty, except for the crewman who had ushered them on and another person sitting opposite them. The crewman closed the hatch and shuffled up through the compartment toward the front of the transport, bumping Luke’s and Eleanor’s knees as he passed. When he reached the end of the cabin, he opened another hatch to reveal a cockpit with a single driver’s seat. He climbed in and closed the hatch behind him.

  “Eleanor Perry?” said the other passenger. It was a woman’s voice.

  “Yes,” Eleanor said.

  “I’m Dr. Beth Marcus.” The woman removed her mask. She was younger than Eleanor’s mom, maybe in her late twenties, with slick black hair cut in a sharp jawline bob. “I work with your mom.”

 

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