Erika brought the aeroplane down on the landing strip of the little airport at Fairwood, Alaska. It was a bright morning and the sun glinted on the snow that lay all around.
“It’s eleven o’clock here,” said Ben. “So the flight was only seven hours! This is a fantastic plane.”
“Your uncle’s very pleased with his new design.” Erika smiled as she took off the pilot’s headset. “It’s all made from recycled products, but it still looks like an ordinary private jet. You’re the first passengers.”
“I see he’s still using chicken poo in his special fuel,” said Zoe, wrinkling her nose.
Everything at Wild was run on eco-friendly – but rather pongy – fuels.
“But there’s something else,” added Ben. “It doesn’t quite smell the same.”
“Well spotted,” said Erika. “He put egg yolks in the mixture. That makes for a much more efficient fuel.”
“Certainly makes it faster!” said Zoe.
They picked up their bulging backpacks.
“Hats, gloves, everything on before I open the door,” instructed Erika. “And don’t take anything off while you’re outside. Frostbite can hit in minutes.”
The children were wearing fleecy tracksuits and long underwear. Now they zipped themselves into white padded waterproof trousers and jackets, and pulled on their balaclavas and gloves.
“Warm as toast!” Ben grinned.
They stepped down on to the tarmac. Their breath made clouds in the freezing air.
“It’s so cold!” gasped Zoe, looking round the desolate airstrip with its single building that rose from the flat snow all around. “The air’s even freezing the inside of my nose!” She tried not to think about the poor cubs huddled in their den, waiting in vain for their mother to return.
“Follow me,” said Erika briskly, heading off towards the airport offices. “Once we’re through passport control our taxi will be arriving to take us to the Inupiat Heritage Center. It’s a good starting place to find out the information we need.”
They were soon waiting outside the airport. In the distance across the white landscape they could just make out a cluster of houses.
Ben was peering down the snow-covered road, marked out by its row of telegraph poles. “I think I’ve just spotted our taxi,” he said, “and it’s awesome!”
Zoe gasped as she followed his gaze. A large sledge was gliding towards them, pulled by a team of eager huskies. The sledge drew alongside and the huskies stood panting as a short, stocky man dressed in fur-trimmed animal skin jumped down.
“Miss Bohn?” he enquired with a broad smile.
Erika smiled back and nodded. “And these are my children, Ben and Zoe.”
“Welcome to Alaska,” said the man. He spoke with an American accent. “My name’s Charlie.”
Ben and Zoe went over and admired the sledge.
“This is going to be great!” exclaimed Zoe. “Shall we get in, Mum?”
The children gave each other a secret grin. They were used to Erika taking on different roles for their missions, but it was funny to pretend she was their mother.
“Oh course, dear,” Erika replied. “But no pushing and shoving.”
The children scrambled aboard, settled themselves on the long bench and covered their legs with a blanket.
Zoe kept her eye on the dogs. One of them looked younger and fluffier than the others and it was rolling in the snow, getting tangled in its chain.
“How sweet!” She sighed. “I just want to hug it.”
“Zoe’s having an attack of gooeyness,” groaned Ben.
“Leave your sister alone,” said Erika, rolling her eyes at Charlie.
They watched him say a few sharp words to the dog.
“That one’s just finished her training,” he told them, as he climbed into the sledge. “She’ll be really good when she settles down.”
One or two of the huskies were already howling in their impatience to get going, and he urged them forwards with some words the children didn’t understand. The sledge glided over the snow in a wide arc and then set off in its previous tracks.
The landscape was very flat and the snow lay deep and undisturbed. One solitary bare tree was growing on a small mound.
In spite of his warm clothes, Ben gave a shiver. This was like nothing he’d experienced before. The coldest place he and Zoe had ever been was Austria on a family skiing holiday. And then they’d been able to go back to a cosy hotel when they got cold. Who knew what lay ahead of them on this mission? No roaring fires for certain once they’d embarked on their search.
“Do you go everywhere on dog sledges?” Zoe asked the driver.
Charlie grinned at her. “Only when I’m transporting tourists,” he said. “We know you like to see the old way of life of the Inupiat people – which is why I dress in the traditional way. We have motorised sledges for everyday.”
“Cool!” exclaimed Ben. “But what do the dogs do then?”
“There are enough tourists to keep them busy,” chuckled Charlie. As the sledge took a bend, a vast sparkling expanse of ice came into view, broken by small channels of dark water. “The Arctic Ocean,” their driver announced.
The sledge joined a wider road and eventually they came to a short main street of shops and a couple of restaurants. Other roads branched away, lined with single storey houses painted in bright colours.
At the far end of the street the driver urged the dogs through a gateway. They stopped outside a large, grey brick building with a gently sloping snow-covered roof. It stood right on the shore of the ocean. A row of flags flapped in the freezing wind. Among them Ben recognised the deep blue of the Alaskan flag with its rich yellow stars.
“That’s the North Star,” he said, pointing at the largest star, “and the Plough constellation – also known as the Great Bear.”
“OK, show off!” Zoe laughed. “But the Great Bear’s just right for our mission,” she added in a whisper.
They jumped out of the sledge and Erika paid Charlie. The children gazed in awe at a huge skull displayed on a plinth outside.
“Look at that!” gasped Ben. “It’s as big as a car!”
“That’s from a bowhead whale,” explained Charlie. “You’ll find out all about the history of whaling inside.”
Although she tried to hide it, Ben caught a glimpse of Zoe’s disapproving expression.
“I bet that was hunted,” she said under her breath.
“We have to accept it’s a different way of life,” he muttered to her. “The Inupiat rely on whale hunting for food and income.”
“I know,” Zoe replied, “but it just seems so cruel.”
Ben turned back to Charlie. “We were hoping to talk to the fisherman who got attacked by a polar bear,” he said. “Do you know where we can find him?”
“Lukie’s getting famous!” said the driver. “You might find him inside. He works here when he’s not out fishing. He looks after our whaling display.”
They thanked him and pushed open the swing doors to the centre. The welcome warm air hit them straight away. They left coats, balaclavas and backpacks in the cloakroom and took in their surroundings.
The centre was a huge, open-plan building with cabinets full of Inupiat traditional dress and cooking utensils. Beautifully crafted harpoons and kayaks were suspended on wires from the ceiling, and photographs of whaling expeditions past and present stretched along one wall.
Ben made straight for the café in the corner and began to eye up the menu.
“You can’t be hungry,” said his sister. “You finished off all the sandwiches and had a whole pizza on the plane.
“That was ages ago!” protested Ben. “I’m starving.”
“We have to find the fisherman first,” insisted Zoe.
A woman was stacking postcards into slots on a stand. Zoe went up to her.
“Excuse me,” she said. “We heard about a man who got attacked by a bear. We’d like to hear his story. Is he in today?”
The woman put down the postcards. “You mean Lukie,” she said. “That young man’s always taking risks. Now everyone’s talking about his narrow escape. I haven’t seen him this morning.”
“What about Theo Airut?” asked Zoe. “It was his blog that told us all about the attack. Perhaps we could speak to him instead.”
The woman looked surprised at Zoe’s persistence.
“We’re doing a school project on polar bears,” Ben explained quickly.
“That’s why you’re so keen,” said the woman. “There are plenty of people here who’ve seen polar bears, but most of us keep our distance!” She nodded to Erika. “It’s nice to see kids so keen on schoolwork. You must be proud of them.”
“I am,” said Erika. “They never let me down.”
“Aw, Mum,” protested Ben. “You’re so embarrassing.”
“Do you know where Lukie was when the attack happened?” Zoe asked the woman.
“We want to draw a map for our project and mark the exact spot,” added Ben. “It’ll make it more exciting to read.”
“I wish I could help,” said the woman, “but I don’t think he said.”
“Would Mr Airut know?” asked Zoe.
“He’s not here,” said the saleswoman. “He’s gone to Anchorage for a few days for a conference.” She smiled. “We’re a small community – we all know each other’s business.” She saw the children’s disappointed faces. “Are you sticking around?” They nodded. “Lukie should be in later.”
“What do we do now?” asked Ben when they’d thanked her and walked out of earshot.
“Time to eat,” said Erika.
Ben rubbed his hands together eagerly at the thought of dinner.
“I’m going to find somewhere quiet to contact Dr Fisher for an update on the oil drilling project,” Erika added in a low voice. “Will you be all right on your own, children?” she said out loud, as the saleswoman walked by.
“Of course we will, Mum!” declared Ben, pretending to be offended at the question.
“Try and behave yourselves,” said Erika, as she headed off for the cloakroom.
After a plate of fried herring and a giant chocolate chip muffin, the children walked round the displays of whaling memorabilia. They pretended to be deeply engrossed in the exhibits, but glanced around eagerly every time someone came into the centre. Not one of them looked like a local young man.
“Time’s running out,” said Zoe anxiously. “Those babies are not going to survive long without their mother.”