The Last Wilderness (23 page)

Janet guided him into his room and settled him back in bed, tucking the blankets neatly around him. ‘There. Now you get some rest,’ she said.

‘Where am I?’ Ujurak asked, his voice still hoarse from his throat injury.

‘Blackhorse,’ the nurse replied. ‘Don’t worry; you’re safe here.’

‘What’s Blackhorse?’

‘The name of this town,’ the nurse told him. ‘It’s an oil town. It’s part of the Propkin oil field.’

Ujurak felt relieved. For a moment he’d thought the flat-faces must bring horses here to kill them.
But he was still puzzled. ‘Oil?’ He had heard the Senator and the villagers talking about oil in the meeting in the big hut, back in Arctic Village. He had known that it must be important, but he still didn’t know what it was.

‘Yeah, oil.’ For a moment Janet looked at him as if he’d said something weird. ‘You know, oil. The stuff you use to make engines run smoothly.’ She looked even more surprised. ‘Just where did you grow up?’ she asked.

‘Er . . . out on the plains,’ Ujurak replied; panic brushed him like a spray of leaves as he tried to think what to say. ‘We didn’t have any engines.’

‘Wow, none at all?’ There was a trace of respect in Janet’s eyes. ‘I didn’t know there were still villages like that. What’s it like, not having electricity or cars or TV?’

Ujurak gazed up at her blankly.
What are those?

Janet bent down to give Ujurak a hug. She had a nice scent, like flowers, but it made Ujurak’s nose tickle, and he tried not to sneeze.

‘Oh, honey, don’t be scared,’ she said. ‘Everything will be fine, you’ll see. Now you lie right there and get some rest, and I’ll be back soon with your supper.’

As soon as the nurse had closed the door behind her, Ujurak started to get out of bed. Then he stopped and lay back down.

She said she’d be back soon and there’ll be trouble if she catches me again. I’d better wait until later
.

Besides, he had to admit that his brief exercise had tired him; he lay dozing until he heard the door squeak as it was opened again.

‘Here we are!’ came Janet’s cheerful voice. ‘And I’ve brought you a little friend to cheer you up.’

Ujurak sat bolt upright, looking past the nurse to see if Lusa or Toklo or Kallik was following her. But only Janet came into the room. She was carrying a tray, which she set down on the table beside Ujurak’s bed.

‘There! Say hi, Ujurak.’

She was holding out something soft, coloured a bright purple, made out of some kind of pelt-stuff. Ujurak blinked at it. The thing looked back at him with bright, glassy eyes. Four stumpy limbs stuck out from its fat body; its nose and mouth were made out of pelt-stuff too.

‘It’s a bear, honey,’ Janet said, looking a bit surprised. ‘Your very own bear to keep you company.’
After a pause, she added, ‘I saw the wooden bear you brought with you, so I thought you liked them.’

That’s not a bear! It’s purple!

But Ujurak could see that Janet was trying to be kind. ‘Uh . . . I do,’ he replied. ‘Thanks.’ He reached out and folded his hand around the bear, feeling how soft and fuzzy it was.

‘Are you going to give him a name?’ the nurse asked.

‘Er . . . yeah.’ Frantically Ujurak wondered what flat-faces called their bears. He had no idea. ‘I’ll call him Toklo,’ he said at last.

‘That’s a great name, honey,’ Janet said.

Yes, it is. I just hope the real Toklo never finds out
.

Gently Janet took purple-Toklo away from Ujurak and set him down on the bedside table. ‘There, now he can watch you.’ She plumped up Ujurak’s pillows so that he could sit up, and set down the tray on his lap.

There was a covered bowl on the tray with a spoon beside it; Janet took the cover off and warm, meaty scents drifted up to Ujurak’s nostrils. He’d had this before: the flat-faces called it ‘soup,’ and it tasted good, even though Ujurak longed for something to
get his teeth into. But the soup slid down easily without hurting his throat. He wished he could lap it sensibly, though, without having to use this clumsy spoon that spilled everywhere.

While he ate, Janet moved quietly around the room, clearing up the water Ujurak had spilled earlier, and checking something on a flat board at the end of his bed. When he had finished she took the tray away and wiped up his spills.

She hadn’t quite finished when there was a tap on the door and a male flat-face in a blue pelt came in. The door squeaked again as he pushed it open. He carried a square metal box in one hand.

‘Hi, Janet,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to fix the door.’

Janet turned towards him. ‘That’s great, Ed. That squeak has been driving me crazy.’

Ujurak watched curiously as Ed opened the square thing and took out a container about the size of a fir cone. A long spike stuck out of the top. Ed stuck the spike into the space between the door and the wall, and when he swung the door a moment later, the squeak was gone.

‘Thanks, Ed,’ Janet said. ‘I –’ She broke off, glancing at Ujurak, and then went on, ‘Ed, just
give me that can for a minute, please.’

Looking puzzled, Ed handed the container over. Janet held the spike above Ujurak’s empty soup bowl, and a few drops of a sticky black substance dripped out of it.

‘Thanks, Ed,’ Janet said, handing the container back.

Ed still looked confused. ‘See you around, Janet,’ he said, and went out.

‘Now then, honey, look at this.’ Janet held the bowl out to Ujurak.

Ujurak took a deep sniff of the black liquid and reared back, staring up, stunned, at Janet.
That stuff smells like a BlackPath!

‘That’s oil,’ Janet told him.

Ujurak bent over the bowl again.
So that’s what all the fuss was about, back in Arctic Village!
Tentatively he reached out and stuck the end of one finger into the oil, then touched his finger to his lips to taste it.

‘No!’ Janet exclaimed. She pulled his hand away and wiped his fingers and his mouth with soft paper. ‘It’s not good to eat,’ she explained, taking the bowl away. ‘It’s poisonous.’

Horrified, Ujurak stared at her.

‘Then why don’t they leave it in the ground?’

The nurse shook her head slightly, as if she couldn’t believe he’d asked that. ‘It’s too useful, honey,’ she explained. ‘We couldn’t go anywhere in trains or boats or planes, or have heat and light in our houses, if we didn’t have oil.’ She smiled. ‘And it’s great for getting rid of the squeaks in doors.’

‘But there must be something you could use that isn’t poisonous,’ Ujurak protested.

‘No, it’s too late,’ Janet replied. ‘Whole towns are built on this stuff, and on the business of getting it out of the ground. Come here and look,’ she invited.

She helped Ujurak out of bed and led him over to the window, pulling back one of the pelts that hung there so that he could look out.

Outside it was night. Ujurak stared across a wide stretch of land covered with flat-face buildings, with BlackPaths running between them. Beyond them was a river, and beyond that stood a huge tower, metal tubes extending away from it into the distance, toward the mountains. A billowing flame burned at the top of the tower, shedding sharp yellow light into the dark blue sky.

‘What happened here?’ Ujurak whispered in dismay.

‘This is the Propkin oil field,’ the nurse explained. ‘It’s how we get oil from the ground.’ Smiling, she ruffled Ujurak’s head-fur.

‘But . . . but where are the plains?’ Ujurak stammered. ‘Where are the mountains?’

‘Don’t worry, they’re still there,’ Janet assured him. ‘If you look out the other way, you’ll see nothing but mountains.’ When Ujurak didn’t respond, she added, ‘I come from Chicago, and that’s a much bigger place than this. Everywhere around here is really unspoiled, except for the oil field. And the oil has done so much good: it’s brought schools and hospitals and better jobs for everyone.’

Ujurak looked down at his fingers; there was still a smear of the black sticky stuff with the foul smell.
Are there really whole denning places built just to dig oil out of the ground?

He remembered the words of Tiinchuu the healer, back in Arctic Village.
Those who would rip the heart out of the earth for their own profit
. . . The hairs rose on the back of Ujurak’s neck, and he felt sick.

‘Look, there’s the oil-pumping tower.’ Janet pointed out of the window. ‘And there are the pipelines carrying the oil away to where it can be used.’

Ujurak stared. ‘What’s that flame?’ he asked. ‘Is the tower on fire?’

The nurse laughed. ‘No, it’s meant to do that. It’s burning off the gases that we don’t want.’

‘And where does the oil go?’ Ujurak said. Those pipes were huge, and there were so many of them. There must be a lot of oil to fill them.

‘Oh . . . some to factories, some to ports to be loaded on to ships. But that’s enough of that,’ the nurse added, pulling the pelt closed again and guiding Ujurak back to bed. ‘It’s time you got some rest.’

‘Who are the men who brought me here?’ Ujurak whispered as she tucked the blankets in.

‘Important men,’ Janet replied. ‘They work for the government and the oil company.’

‘They want to take oil from the land belonging to the caribou people.’

Janet nodded, frowning slightly as she looked down at him. ‘These are bad times,’ she said at last. ‘Poor mother nature is going to suffer. But we do need oil from somewhere.’

She raised a hand to silence Ujurak as he opened his mouth to ask another question. ‘Look, I’ll show you something. We’ll use your bed as a map.’

‘What’s a map?’

‘Just look.’ Janet folded back the blue blanket that lay on top of Ujurak’s bed, revealing the sheet below. ‘Imagine this is the ocean,’ she said, patting the blanket. ‘And we’ll ruffle up the sheet just here, to make the mountains.’ Picking up purple-Toklo, she plopped him down at the edge of the blanket. ‘And here’s the oil field!’

Ujurak put his head on one side, imagining he was a bird, flying above the land and the sea. ‘I get it!’

‘There are oil fields out on the ice too,’ Janet added, pointing to a spot on the ocean-blanket.

‘On the ice?’ Ujurak’s heart started to beat faster.
Kallik never told us about that
.

‘Yes, they sure are clever, aren’t they?’ Janet said. ‘Now, can you show me where you come from, honey?’

Ujurak didn’t want to answer her gently probing question. He didn’t know where he came from, except that he was sure it wouldn’t be on her map.

‘Can you see the ocean from your home?’ Janet prompted when Ujurak didn’t reply.

‘No . . .’ Ujurak began uncertainly, thinking of Arctic Village and trying to work out where the
ocean would be. ‘It’s in a narrow valley,’ he added, guessing where on the map the village might be and pointing to a gap between two of the sheet-mountains. ‘It’s where the caribou go.’

‘My, I’m surprised your people are so primitive when they’re so close to the oil field,’ Janet said.

‘There’s a lake here,’ Ujurak went on, beginning to be interested in the map. ‘And here’s a place where the geese feed. And this is the forest.’

‘You know your land so well!’ Janet exclaimed, her voice filled with amazement.

‘Of course. It’s where I come from,’ Ujurak replied.

‘If you’re so interested in maps, you should go to the Propkin Community Center,’ Janet told him. ‘It was built by the oil company before they started work.’ She got up and went back to the window, pointing out in a different direction. ‘There it is.’

Ujurak could just make out the outline of another building, lower than the towers, but big and solid, with a flat green roof.

‘It’s great there,’ Janet went on. ‘There’s a wide-screen TV, bowling, snack bars – even a clinic. The oil company has done such good things for the community! And you would just love the room where
the oil company shows their plans.’ She returned to Ujurak’s bed and sat down beside him, her eyes shining. ‘The walls are covered with maps of the ocean as well as the land around Propkin, with the oil rigs and new communities and roads. I’d really like to get a placement on an oil rig,’ she added, sighing. ‘Those guys are so brave! And they’re keeping North America alive! If you like, I’ll take you over there and show you when you’re feeling better,’ she promised.

‘Yes, I’d like that,’ Ujurak said, thinking,
If I’m still here
. . .

‘And now it’s time for you to get some sleep.’ Janet straightened the sheet and put the blanket back, tucking purple-Toklo into the bed beside Ujurak.

Ujurak leaned against his pillows. ‘Save the wild . . .’ he murmured, remembering what Lusa had told him, back on Smoke Mountain.

‘What was that, honey?’ Janet asked.

Ujurak blinked. ‘Uh . . . nothing.’

‘OK then, well, get some rest.’ Janet picked up the tray and glanced around the room as if she was checking that everything was all right. ‘Goodnight,’ she said with a smile, and went out.

Once he was sure she had gone, Ujurak got out of bed and went back to the window, pulling the pelts aside to reveal the devastated landscape outside. With a struggle he managed to shift the catch on the window and push it open. Cold air flooded in, bringing with it an acrid smell.

Ujurak coughed, his sore throat protesting, as he breathed it in.
That’s oil, then. It’s foul!
He seemed to see the black, sticky stuff spreading out from his fingers, choking his skin, slicking his hair, filling his nose and mouth . . . There was no escape from it.

The horror of his vision filled him with fury and he let out a roar. The soft flat-face pelts seemed to cling to him and stifle him; he couldn’t bear their touch against his skin. Ripping them off, he felt his body begin to change. Ujurak let out a loud cry of relief as his transformation began.