Ben and Zoe gazed at each other in excitement. This was like nothing they’d ever done before.
“Any clues to where we should look?” asked Zoe.
“The blogger didn’t say where the bear attacked,” said Uncle Stephen. “That’s something you’ll have to find out when you get there.”
“I don’t suppose she would have strayed far from her cubs,” said Ben thoughtfully. “Polar bears build birthing dens, don’t they? They make them in the snow on the land and stay in them for months.”
“They do,” said Uncle Stephen.
“So we find out where the attack took place and start our search there,” said Zoe.
“Exactly,” said Uncle Stephen. “Most bears give birth in December and January – usually to twins – and when the cubs are about two or three months old they start bringing them out. So our little orphans could have started exploring, but they’ll still be dependent on their mum for milk.”
The door opened and a smiling young woman with a ponytail came in. It was Erika Bohn, Dr Fisher’s second-in-command.
“I’ve just got the latest weather reports for Fairwood,” she told them. “Minus twenty degrees centigrade with snow showers.”
“Minus twenty!” gasped Zoe. “That’s incredibly cold. And won’t it be dark most of the time?”
“It would be in the depths of winter,” Erika explained. “But as it’s March there’ll be about twelve hours of daylight, like here.”
She tapped a screen and brought up a map of the Arctic Circle.
“Here’s Fairwood,” she said, zooming in on the northern coast of Alaska. “That’s the village where the fisherman lives. I’ll take you there so you can find out more from him. Eager questions from a couple of kids won’t look suspicious. I’m going to pretend to be your mother and we’ll be tourists.”
“Then you two will head off to search for the bear cubs while Erika goes further along the coast,” put in Uncle Stephen.
“There’s a new oil drilling project being proposed in the Arctic near to Fairwood,”
Erika told them. “We’re fearful that pollution from the drilling will add to the problems that global warming is already causing for the animals there. I’m going to investigate.”
“You’ll be needing my latest invention, of course,” said Uncle Stephen, proudly pulling out a small crate from under a workstation and rummaging around inside. “I’m very excited about my RAT.”
With a flourish, their godfather pulled out two streamlined snowboards with micro-sized engines at the back. They were about half the size of a normal skateboard and folded in half for packing. The children had never seen anything like them.
“The RAT,” he explained. “The Rapid Arctic Traveller. I’ve made them from a special ultra-bonded polyurethane I’ve developed. They’re so strong an elephant could use them – if it could get its feet in the footholds. And the beauty is they’re made entirely from recycled materials.”
He placed one on the ground and stood on it, kicking the engine into life with his heel.
“Dr Fisher!” warned Erika. “Remember what happened last time you tried it out.”
“I thought I’d be safe in the corridor,” protested Uncle Stephen, as the RAT wobbled dangerously. “I didn’t know that James was about to come out of the staff restaurant with a tray of yoghurts.”
“I wish I’d seen that!” said Ben.
“I rather resembled a milkshake afterwards,” admitted their godfather, reluctantly stepping off the RAT.
“It’s just like skateboarding,” said Erika. “And I know you two are experts at that. The RAT power-glides across the snow. It’s very flexible and copes with bumpy terrain. The engine runs on batteries, solar powered of course, and it will keep going for forty-eight hours without a boost.”
“Awesome!” gasped Ben.
“I can’t wait to try it out,” exclaimed Zoe, taking one in her hands. “It’s so light.”
“And now for the rest of your equipment,” said Erika. “You’ll be needing your BUGs and suitable clothing.” She opened a drawer and handed them two small devices. The BUGs, short for Brilliant Undercover Gizmos, looked like handheld games consoles to anyone who didn’t know. They were, in fact, sophisticated machines that did a whole range of things from satellite mapping to animal tracking.
“I wouldn’t want to go without this,” said Ben, scrolling through the menu.
Uncle Stephen chuckled. “Don’t forget to pack your long johns – they’ll be just as vital as your BUGs on this chilly mission.”
Erika led Ben and Zoe over to the stockroom.
The Wild stockroom was an Aladdin’s cave of marvellous technological devices, clothes for every possible climate, and various half-finished inventions of Uncle Stephen’s, full of wires and springs.
Erika pulled two backpacks off a shelf. “I’ve already put a tent in one of these,” she told them. “And your ultra-light thermal sleeping bags.” She then took two baby bottles and some powdered milk from a wall cupboard.
“This is specially formulated to match the rich milk of a polar bear mother,” she said. “Now pass those white bundles, please, Zoe.”
“What are they?” asked Zoe, pulling two furry fleeces out of a box.
“Slings,” said Uncle Stephen, appearing in the doorway. “When you find the cubs you’ll need something to carry them in.
They’ll be about the size of large cats by now. The fur will make them think you’re their mother. We don’t want them to get used to humans.”
The children stashed the slings in their backpacks, and Dr Fisher showed them the special side pockets that kept the folded RATs hidden from view. Erika made two piles of clothes for them to take.
“Looks as if Erika’s getting you to pack everything but the kitchen sink!” laughed Uncle Stephen. “She’s right, though. You must be prepared for the worst the weather can throw at you out there.”
Erika grinned at him as she picked up two pairs of goggles.
“These are specially designed for the Arctic,” she said. “They act as snow goggles, which you will find essential, but when you press the logo here…” she touched the small symbol on one side and immediately the lower half of the glass darkened, “…that part becomes thermogoggles.” Erika handed the goggles to Ben and Zoe.
“Awesome!” said Ben.
Ben and Zoe hoisted their backpacks on to their shoulders and slung their Arctic clothing over their arms.
“We’re ready!” declared Zoe.
“Good luck,” said Uncle Stephen. “I’ll start looking for somewhere that takes polar bear orphans.”
Ben turned to face Zoe. “Come on, what are we waiting for? We’ve got bear cubs to save!”