The Icarus Project Read Online Free PDF Page B

not a vacation. I’ll have a field notebook and do reports.” My mind raced with plans for the trip.
    “Good idea. Once I finalize it with Randal Clark and OK it with your mom, we’ll be all set. As long as they don’t have a problem with you joining the team, then you can go.” He ruffled my hair. “But be warned, it’s going to get cold up there.”
    “I can handle the cold. No problem.” I beamed.
    It was really going to happen—my first expedition.

 
    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 astar-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