The Arctic Code (8 page)

“You heard me.” He firmed up his stance. “End of the line. Off. Now.”

“L
UCIUS
F
OURNIER
!” B
ETTY HAD COME BACK INTO THE
cargo hold. “You are
not
leaving her stranded here.”

Lucius?

“Better here than stranded in Barrow,” he said.

“I won't be stranded,” Eleanor said. “My
mom
is there.”

Luke stared at her a moment through the dark lenses of his mask. “Your mom is in Barrow?”

Eleanor hesitated before answering. “Close to Barrow, yes. That's what I've been trying—”

“Why the devil is your mom in Barrow?”

“She's a geologist,” Eleanor said. “She works for an oil company.”

Luke turned toward Betty.

The woman put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Don't look at me that way. You've only got one choice here, and you know it.”

Another moment passed, and then Luke flipped both hands in the air. “Fine. Betty, get your crap off my plane. Kid, let's go.” He stalked away through the hold.

Eleanor turned to Betty. “Do you need help?”

Betty laughed. “Not as much as you will once this plane takes off. But don't let him fool you. Luke is a good guy underneath all that, and that's a rare thing up here. You better get going, though, unless you want to stay back here for the rest of the flight.”

“Thanks.” Eleanor grabbed up her pack and followed after Luke. She found him waiting at the bottom of the ramp.

“That all you brought?” he asked.

Eleanor nodded. Then she looked around. She was now immersed in the sea of ice she'd seen from the plane, the sheet flat and unending to the horizon on all sides. They were on an airfield, but the buildings and hangars looked more like battered bunkers. Every
vehicle Eleanor saw had tank treads instead of wheels. Every person she saw moving around wore layers and layers of armor against the cold and walked with head and shoulders down. Their appearance created the impression that Fairbanks was a city at war, under constant siege from the cold and the ice.

“This way.” Luke led her to the front of the plane, then up a motorized staircase.

Eleanor followed him up and through the door into the cabin.

There were three rows of passenger seats, four to a row, two on each side of the aisle. Luke pulled the door closed, latched it with a big lever, and removed his mask. Then he ducked into the open cockpit at the front and took the pilot's seat.

“Sit anywhere you want,” he called over his shoulder as he stretched a headset over his ears.

“Okay.” Eleanor took off her mask, replaced it in her pack, and tossed the pack into one of the seats. Then she climbed up into the cockpit and slipped into the copilot's chair beside Luke.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing?”

She buckled in. “You told me to sit anywhere I want.”

“Yeah.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Back there.”

“That's not what you said.”

“Well, I—” He closed his mouth. “You know what? Fine. Whatever. Just don't touch anything.”

Eleanor brought her legs up and crossed them in her seat. “I won't.”

Luke positioned the headset's microphone in front of his mouth. “Fairbanks Tower, this is cargo craft one-nine-three-zero
Consuelo
, reporting all systems go. . . . Roger that. . . .” He flipped a series of switches around and above him. Eleanor scanned the cockpit, with all its dials and gauges and controls, and noticed a little black-and-white screen with a fish-eyed video feed from the cargo hold. It appeared that Betty had unloaded all her crates. Luke watched the feed carefully for a moment and then flipped another switch. On the screen, the cargo door closed.

Then it occurred to Eleanor. Luke had known she was back there. Had he been watching her
the whole time
? She swiveled in her chair and looked directly at him while pointing at the screen.

He shrugged. “I didn't notice you until we were three hours out of Phoenix, but by that point I'd already lost too much time—” He snapped forward as if listening to something in his headphones. “Affirmative, Fairbanks Tower. Cargo craft one-nine-three-zero
Consuelo
, taxiing to runway.” He took hold of the yoke
and the throttle, and the plane crawled forward.

Eleanor hadn't taken her stare from him.

As he guided the plane, he shook his head at her. “Don't look at me like that. You're the one who illegally stowed away on my plane.”

Eleanor faced forward in her seat. “That doesn't give you the right to spy on me.”

“According to ancient maritime law, stowaways have no rights. They can even be thrown overboard.”

Eleanor squinted at him. “You just made that up, didn't you?”

“I'm sure I heard it somewhere,” he said. The plane reached a position at the end of a long, unpaved runway that appeared to be made of ice mixed with gravel. “Fairbanks Tower, cargo craft one-nine-three-zero
Consuelo
, am I cleared for takeoff? Over.”

Eleanor wasn't quite ready to let his lie go, but Luke's focus had shifted entirely to the plane. He took hold of the yoke in front of him.

“Affirmative. See you next time, Fairbanks Tower.” He pushed the throttle down again, but this time, the plane jumped, gaining speed fast enough to squeeze Eleanor's stomach. “Here we go, kid,” Luke said.

Taking off was a very different experience up here than it had been back in the cargo hold. Through the windows, Eleanor could see ahead of them and to
either side, and she felt a thrill at the way the world streaked by.

Luke pulled back on the yoke, and the nose of the plane lifted off the ground, followed by the rest of her, and they were airborne. The plane climbed at a steep angle, the world falling away from them at a rapid pace, and she kept climbing until they were above the clouds.

Several moments later, Luke leveled them off. “About two hours to Barrow.”

Eleanor's earlier irritation and embarrassment had faded. Luke might have been spying on her, but that also meant he hadn't kicked her off. “Thanks,” she said.

Luke took a moment to respond. “You're welcome.”

“So, where are you from?” Eleanor asked.

Luke shook his head. “No. We're not doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting to know each other.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window. “Just trying to pass the time.”

The engine droned.

“Anchorage,” Luke said. “That's where I'm from.”

Maybe that answered the other question Eleanor wanted to ask, which was why Luke kept flying up here when other pilots didn't. “Ever been married? Kids?”

Luke gripped the steering column. “Married once. Two kids. Robbie and Amanda. When the ice came, my ex took them south. I took to the air.” He turned to look at Eleanor. “What about you? Your mom's in Barrow. Where's your dad?”

“No dad,” she said. “I have an Uncle Jack, though.”

“He know where you are?” Luke asked.

An instant guilt put Eleanor on the defensive. Uncle Jack was probably freaking out by now, calling the cops and everything. “I'm sure he has some idea. He'll forgive me, though. Eventually. He gets me.”

“That a problem you have? People not getting you?”

“Pretty much,” Eleanor said. “People think I'm a freak. Maybe I am. No one I know would have stowed away on a plane heading to Alaska.”

“Well,” Luke said, “not many pilots are crazy enough to fly up this way, so I guess that makes me a freak, too.” He paused. “What about your mom? Does she get you?”

“Sometimes,” Eleanor said. But there were also times it didn't seem like her mom, or even Uncle Jack, truly understood her. At times it seemed like no one did. She shook that thought away and focused on the clouds, the blue sky, the blur of ice below. This was much better than riding in the cargo hold.

“So.” She bounced an eyebrow. “Lucius, huh?”

He chuckled. “Only when I'm in trouble.”

Eleanor grinned. “Betty was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“You
are
a good guy.”

His demeanor changed. The smile abandoned his lips and his eyes, leaving a hardness behind. “Don't get your hopes up, kid.”

F
or the next hour or so, they didn't say much. The ice sheet below gave way to the peaks of a mountain range pushing up through it, creating the appearance of an island chain. Eleanor started thinking about what she would do when she reached Barrow. The first thing she
wanted
to do was find someone with a snow vehicle she could hire, travel to her mother's station out on the ice sheet, and start helping in the search.

But that might have to wait. It was nearing four o'clock in the afternoon, which meant there wouldn't be a lot of time before the sun set, and even Eleanor knew better than to go out onto the ice sheet at night.

The eastern horizon had grown dark. It took Eleanor a moment to realize it was too early for that to be from the time of day.

“Why is it so dark over there?” she asked Luke.

“Polar storm,” he said. “It'll hit Barrow earlier than I was expecting. I'm barely going to have
enough time to unload and refuel.”

“What happens if you run out of time?” Eleanor asked, but what she worried about more was her mom, stranded or lost or trapped somewhere out there, about to get caught in the same storm. Unless Eleanor managed to locate her first.

“I'm stuck in Barrow until it passes over,” Luke said. “Could last a week, or longer.” He shook his head. “We'll be landing soon. How quick can your mom come get you?”

Eleanor shifted in her seat. “Um, not quick.”

Luke paused. “Why not?”

Eleanor didn't think there was any reason to keep the truth from him now. They were almost at Barrow. “My mom is kind of . . . lost.”

“What?”

“She went out on the ice sheet and her company lost contact with her.”

“Okay, so who's coming to get you?”

Eleanor's voice got quiet. “No one.”

Luke's face reddened. “Is anyone up here even expecting you?”

“No,” she said.

“Ice me, I knew something was off,” Luke said. “Should have listened to my gut and kicked you off back in Fairbanks. After I unload and refuel, I'm
taking you back to Phoenix—”

“NO!”

“You don't have a choice, kid.”

“I'm not leaving until I find my mom. I'm the only one she trusted, and I'm going after her!”

“Well, I don't know any mom who would want her kid daughter coming up to Barrow, of all places, all alone on some rescue mission.”

“I didn't say she wanted me to come,” Eleanor said. “I
chose
to come up and find her.” She sat back in her seat, arms folded. “It doesn't matter—it's not your problem. After we land, you don't have to worry about me anymore.”

Luke closed his eyes and kneaded his forehead. His voice got quiet. “Listen to me very carefully. Barrow is a dangerous place, even for people like me. Especially for someone like you. It's like the Wild West up here, kid. Excepting a few scientists like your mom, most of the people up here are criminals running from the law, or desperate folks trying to strike it rich. Lots of people get stuck up here in forced labor outfits. Drill junkies murder each other over oil claims. You don't have any idea what you're doing.”

Eleanor knew all that, but thinking about it only made her frightened, and she didn't want to be frightened. She wanted to find her mom. But Luke seemed
genuinely concerned for her. For the first time since leaving Phoenix, she began to really doubt her plan.

“When we land,” Luke said, “just stay on the plane. Okay? I'll have you back home, safe and sound, by early tomorrow morning.”

Eleanor didn't respond. She didn't know what to say. She stared out the window, watching the darkness on the horizon deepen and spread, taking over the sky.

Luke didn't say anything for the rest of the flight either, until a short while later, when he radioed the Barrow Tower, asking for permission to land.

Eleanor spotted the first drilling rig down on the ice, a black spider against that white sheet. Then she spotted another, and another. A whole network of drilling facilities and a web of interconnecting pipelines between them, all leading to the city of Barrow at the center.

“Buckle in,” Luke told Eleanor. “With that storm coming, it's going to be a bumpy descent.”

The turbulence buffeted and jolted them on the way down, hard enough that Eleanor was glad for her seat belt. Her stomach lurched and groaned, and she spent most of the ride down holding on to the sides of the pilot's chair, eyes fixed on the bouncing, narrow runway and the scattering of buildings now coming into view.

When they finally touched down, hard, she let out a sigh that deflated her whole body. Luke did some more talking with the flight tower, and as they taxied toward a large hangar, Eleanor thought about what she was going to do now.

She'd come this far. She had her Sync, with the information her mom had sent, and she had her gear. Her mom had friends up here at the research station, too, the other scientists and workers from her oil company. She was sure they had to come into Barrow pretty frequently. Perhaps if Eleanor could make contact with them, they'd come get her, and then they could all find her mom together.

She noticed Luke watching her from the corner of his eye.

“What?” she asked.

“You're staying on the plane, right?”

“Right.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I am,” she said. He'd forgive her lie quickly enough when he didn't have some kid to worry about anymore.

“Okay, then,” he said.