The Arctic Code

  “Mom, whatever that Concentrator is”—Eleanor pointed toward it with the accuracy of a compass, feeling the energy lines—“Skinner cannot get his hands on it. Ever.”

  Her mother stood. “Well, I cannot allow you to place yourself in harm’s way!”

  “Allow?” Eleanor rose to her feet. “Who’re you kidding, Mom? I’ve been putting myself in harm’s way for years. You can’t stop me. Uncle Jack figured that out a long time ago. Where’ve you been?”

  The question hung in the air like the echo of a slap to the face.

  Her mother’s gaze fell just a bit. “It’s true I may not have always been there for you. But that’s because I’ve been up here trying to save the human race, Eleanor. Please stop acting like such a child for once.”

  Eleanor didn’t have the time or patience to evaluate her mother’s motives in that moment. The others were getting ready to march up the crevasse. “Just blame it on the Donor so I can get out of here.”

  Her mother’s mouth snapped shut. She held her lips tight, and then she said, “I am your mother, and you belong here with me.”

  “You know what, Mom?” Eleanor said. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe you belong with me?” Then she stormed from the hut.

  Outside, a column of Stone Age warriors, men and women alike, had begun its march toward the canyon. Amarok led them, while Dr. Powers brought up the rear with Finn and Julian. Eleanor trotted after them until she’d caught up, expecting, and maybe even hoping, to hear her mother calling after her.

  But she didn’t.

  When she fell in with Dr. Powers, Finn, and Julian, they said nothing but simply gave her a grim nod, which she returned. When the column reached the entrance to the canyon, Amarok mounted his sled, which had been loaded up with cargo, some kind of lattice of wood and bone, and ordered his wolves forward. They flew into the canyon, and the column followed on foot.

  Several hundred yards in, Eleanor wished she were riding on that sled. The climb was arduous, though it seemed to barely faze the villagers. It took some time to reach the surface, and when they did, they found the ice sheet ablush with the coming dawn.

  Eleanor put on her mask against the cold, while the villagers set to work with the lattices, stretching them out inside the crevasse. They were frameworks for animal skins and fur, specifically white skins and fur—seals, polar bears, and rabbits. These were hunting blinds, a camouflage, the same strategy the villagers had likely once used to take down game on the ice.

  After Amarok’s people had stretched the skins over the first blind, they slowly raised it out of the crevasse, up onto the glacier. Once it was in position, several men and women climbed up behind it, safely hidden, and began to push it forward a few inches at a time.

  Those in the crevasse prepared another blind and sent it up, then another, and another, until they came to the last. Amarok had unharnessed his wolves from the sled. He gave them one last command to stay, then motioned for Dr. Powers, along with Eleanor, Finn, and Julian, to join him and the few remaining warriors behind the blind.

  Up on the ice sheet, the brutal cold reminded Eleanor that her suit still had no power. But she warmed herself a bit pushing the heavy blind forward by increments with each silent order from Amarok.

  At that careful pace, it took them another hour to cover the distance between the crevasse and the station, but before the sun broke over the horizon, all the warriors had reached their positions surrounding the station, hidden behind their blinds, armed with spears, bows, and clubs.

  After that, they waited, and that was when Eleanor really began to feel the cold. It wasn’t aggressive, like it had been during the storm; this felt more insidious, creeping up from below, like an invasive parasite waiting to take root in her if she stayed in one place for too long. Her teeth chattered. She shivered. So did Finn, Julian, and even Dr. Powers, but Amarok and his people appeared unaffected.

  After the sun had risen, the hatch on the central sphere finally opened, and several crew members lowered a ladder and climbed down to the ice. They wore full polar gear, and Eleanor watched through cracks in the blind, wondering if one of them was Skinner. If so, all they’d need would be a single, well-placed arrow. But there wasn’t any way to be sure, and they couldn’t risk a premature attack. If they did, Skinner would just hole up in the sphere and call in reinforcements, and that would be the end of Amarok’s people.

  The crew members walked around the site with various sensors and other equipment, taking measurements and collecting data. Eleanor could sense the Concentrator directly below them, emitting its stolen energy, and felt the weight of the rogue world pressing down from the sky above.

  The crew members conferred for some time, seemed to come to some kind of decision, and then hammered a series of poles and stakes into the ice. Shortly after that, the spheres disgorged the rest of their occupants. Dozens of additional men and women moved about beneath the station, opening compartments around the bases of the spheres, and an inner machinery awoke. The spheres ejected huge pieces of themselves, which Eleanor assumed would be assembled into a drill.

  Then she saw Boar. He walked among the crew without assisting, simply observing, like some kind of terrifying overseer.

  In terms of numbers, Amarok’s people were evenly matched with the G.E.T. But Eleanor noticed that the crew had a few security guards placed among them, and they had pistols holstered at their hips or strapped to their thighs, while others carried rifles.

  Amarok adjusted his stance, about to give the order to attack, and Eleanor felt the cool rush of adrenaline shoot through her veins. She tried to calm herself, but her breathing deepened and her pulse quickened. The battle was about to begin.

  Amarok gave those behind his blind a lip-curled smile, and then bellowed a single word.

  His people responded with instant, deafening shouts and shrieks, simultaneously launching a barrage from their projectile weapons.

  The station crew panicked, ducking and scattering as the sound and the missiles fell upon them. A few of them went down, pierced by arrows or spears, but a moment later, the crew seemed to collectively recover and regroup from the surprise of the attack.

  “Get down,” Dr. Powers said.

  Eleanor went flat against the ice, and a second later, bullets ripped through the blind, the loud crack of gunfire ringing in her ears. Amarok turned back toward the fissure, gave a shrill whistle, then jumped up and charged. All his people followed his lead in a great rush, closing the distance between them and the crew.

  The gunfire escalated, and Eleanor watched in horror for the next few moments as many of the villagers jerked and fell in splashes of blood. But those who made it in took the fighting hand-to-hand, and here, Amarok’s people proved to be superior. They grappled the crew to the ground, breaking bones, choking, slicing. It was savage, and Eleanor wanted to look away.

  Then something gray streaked past the blind from behind her. Then another, and another. Amarok’s wolves. They’d been summoned to battle, and they flew snarling into the fight, lithe and lethal, taking G.E.T. crew down by their arms and throats.

  But the guns continued to fire, and men, women, and wolves screamed. Dr. Powers twisted his grip on a club Amarok had given him. “I’m going in,” he said. “I’ll try to get a pistol.”

  Then he scrambled up and rushed forward with the same ferocity as the villagers. Eleanor watched him dive and weave, swinging his weapon like a bat. He caught a couple of the crew with solid blows, but before he could get his hands on a firearm, Boar crashed into him and he went down hard. Then the giant grabbed him by the throat.

  “NO!” Julian howled, and a second later, he and Finn were racing in.

  Eleanor followed them, almost without thinking, and found herself suddenly in the midst of the battle.

  Dr. Powers thrashed and pummeled Boar, who still had him pinned to the ground by the throat, but his blows had no effect, and he was clearly weakening.

  Julian flew at the giant with his
own club, bashing his head and shoulders, forcing Boar to let go of Dr. Powers to shield himself. Dr. Powers scrambled away just as the giant grabbed Julian’s club midblow and threw it back at him, knocking him to the ground.

  Dr. Powers had regained his club and went in for a swing, but Boar swung his fist first, cracking the side of Dr. Powers’s head. Eleanor heard the impact, and Dr. Powers wobbled down to his knees.

  Finn screamed, “DAD!” and raised his own weapon, but before he could charge, Amarok leaped between him and Boar.

  The giant looked down as Amarok adjusted his spear. The fighting around the two came to a halt as both sides paused to watch what would happen. Boar scooped up a club, swung it a few times as if testing its weight, and then assumed a wide stance.

  Three of Amarok’s wolves appeared at his side, but he ordered them back. He and Boar then circled each other for a few moments. When Boar launched his attack, Amarok ducked and dodged the giant’s blows, each time barely avoiding them. Amarok then went in for a strike, and Boar deflected the spear thrust with the club.

  For several minutes, the two of them fought as equals, swinging, dodging, thrusting, blocking. Both were breathing hard, Boar through his mask, Amarok in the open air.

  But then one of the giant’s blows glanced off Amarok’s side. The warrior cried out and stumbled, dropping his spear. Boar seized the opportunity and pounced, but Amarok ducked out of the way into a roll, snatched up his spear, and hurled it.

  The razor spearhead caught Boar square in the chest and buried itself to the shaft. The giant looked down at the red stain spreading through the white of his polar-bear fur. Then he dropped to his knees with a moan and fell on his back.

  Those who had watched the fight remained motionless in the aftermath. Eleanor wondered if that had ended the battle, these two champions dueling for the fate of them all. Amarok looked as though he was about to say something, but before he could, a single gunshot exploded, knocking him to the ground.

  Eleanor cried out. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder, and he lay on the ice, growling and grunting in pain.

  The man who had fired the shot spoke. “I see Dr. Powers and his sons. I see Miss Perry. But I do not see Dr. Perry.”

  It was Skinner. Eleanor recognized his voice through his mask, and as he spoke, his crew seemed to regain themselves, while Amarok’s fall seemed to have shocked and weakened the resolve of his people. Even Amarok’s wolves appeared submissive and unsure, ears back, whining and licking their master’s face and wound. In the next few moments, those security forces still standing lifted their guns and aimed them at the stunned warriors.

  “You have attacked a legally sanctioned installation operating under the authority of the Global Energy Trust and the United Nations,” Skinner said. “I suggest an orderly surrender, unless more of you want to die.”

  The Paleos probably hadn’t understood any of that, but when Skinner fired a warning shot into the air, they dropped their spears and clubs.

  Skinner nodded and then walked toward Eleanor. “Miss Perry, where is your mother?”

  “She’s dead,” Eleanor said, without hesitation.

  “Your demeanor suggests otherwise. You and this army of yours did not simply materialize on the ice. You came from somewhere.” Skinner swiveled his masked face from side to side, appearing to scrutinize the Stone Age warriors. “Upper Paleolithic, if I am not mistaken. Fascinating. And impossible.”

  “Guess you don’t know everything,” Eleanor said.

  “You are right about that.” Skinner pointed his gun at Finn’s head. “Miss Perry, where is your mother? And do not even consider lying to me again, or Mr. Powers here will pay.”

  CHAPTER

  22

  “NO!” DR. POWERS CRIED. “SKINNER, HE’S A CHILD!”

  Eleanor panicked. “She’s in the village! Please! Just— just don’t shoot!”

  Finn was shaking so hard, Eleanor could see it through all his layers of gear.

  “Village?” Skinner said. “What village?”

  “PLEASE!” Eleanor shouted. “Take the gun away!”

  “Answer my question, Miss Perry.” Skinner extended the barrel even closer to Finn. “What village?”

  “Their village!” Eleanor’s voice deteriorated. “Under the ice sheet.”

  Skinner held still for several moments without speaking, the gun unwavering. “Show me,” he finally said, turning the gun on her.

  Eleanor nodded her acquiescence, glad Finn was no longer in danger, then bowed her head as she led the way toward the fissure. She felt Amarok’s people watching her, and she betrayed them with every step, passed the wounded and the dead, men, women, and wolves. But what else could she do? The battle was lost.

  Skinner gave an order to one of his men. “Keep them here until I return. Take no chances. If they give you trouble, shoot them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Skinner pressed the gun to Eleanor’s back. “Let’s go, Miss Perry. Just you and me.”

  They left Polaris Station behind and crossed the quarter mile of ice. As they approached the fissure, Dr. Skinner shook his head. “I should have noticed this before. Where does it lead?”

  “All the way down,” Eleanor said.

  They climbed down in silence, passing Amarok’s empty sled. At the sight of it, all Eleanor could think was that her mother had been right. It had been suicide to think the villagers could make a stand against the modern world and prevail.

  After they had descended some distance, Skinner spoke up. “I must say, I’m surprised to see you alive, Miss Perry. After our last communication, I’d been expecting to find a corpse waiting at those coordinates. You seemed to be in bad shape.”

  At the reminder of his deception, a spark of anger ignited in Eleanor, lighting a path through her despair and defeat. She followed its heat, coaxing it to life. “What did you do to Luke?” she asked.

  “Mr. Fournier? He escaped right after you did. Fled to Barrow, I believe.”

  At least he was alive and unharmed.

  “I know about the rogue planet,” Eleanor said.

  Skinner sighed. “That is unfortunate. Your silence is critical, Miss Perry.”

  “So you’re going to kill me? Kill my mom? Kill everyone who finds out about it?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” he said. “You will all be given the opportunity to adopt the Preservation Protocol.”

  “Preservation Protocol?” Eleanor remembered that name from her science class, the conspiracy theory Mr. Fiske had dismissed. So it was real. “Is this what you call preservation?”

  “You waste my time, Miss Perry.”

  “How?”

  “You lack the maturity to understand.”

  “I understand perfectly well that you have a gun to my back.”

  “You think I am evil,” Skinner said. “But I am safeguarding human life on this planet in a systematic way that maximizes its chances at a meaningful survival. Millions have died as a result of this ice age. Billions will follow. What does your life amount to among them? The relative value of a single life is insignificant when compared—”

  “My life is NOT insignificant!” Eleanor stopped and spun around to face him. He still held the gun, but she didn’t care. “My mom’s life is not insignificant! Neither is Uncle Jack’s! Or Finn’s! They all deserve to know! They deserve the chance to fight—”

  “NO!” Skinner bellowed. “Human beings are not equipped to handle this threat! If it had been left to the population at large, our world would already be in a state of chaos with ZERO chance of survival!”

  His argument sounded familiar. It echoed the discussion between Eleanor’s mother and Dr. Powers over Amarok’s decision to fight for his home against the spheres of Polaris Station. Skinner almost sounded like her mom.

  “Has anyone gone up there?” Eleanor asked.

  “Where?” Skinner asked.

  “To the rogue world.”

  He sighed. “You make my point for me, Miss Perry
. Why would we waste our diminishing energy resources on a pointless mission to a lifeless, uninhabitable world? If you were in charge, we’d—”

  “It isn’t uninhabited,” Eleanor said.

  “Pardon me?”

  “I won’t, but what I said is that the rogue world isn’t uninhabited.”

  He snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Eleanor wished she could see his face to know if he was being sincere. Could it be that he didn’t know? Perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps no one did.

  “Miss Perry,” he said, adopting a condescending tone, “rogue worlds travel the harsh vacuum of space. They are orphans, without a parent star to give them energy and create the conditions to sustain life. They are dead by definition.”

  Eleanor turned away from him and resumed her descent. Perhaps if he saw the Concentrator, he would understand. Perhaps if he realized what the earth faced, he would stop what he was doing. Amarok and his people couldn’t fight the G.E.T., but perhaps Eleanor could change their course.

  “You need to see something,” she said.

  When they reached the end of the canyon, and the cavern opened wide, Skinner’s even, calculated demeanor finally slipped, if only for a moment. “My God,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Eleanor pulled off her mask. “It’s warm down here,” she said. “You won’t need your gear.”

  Skinner removed his mask too. “Those huts up ahead,” he said. “They appear to be constructed of mammoth bones.”

  “They are,” Eleanor said. “That’s Amarok’s village.”

  “Who is this Amarok you keep mentioning?”

  “He’s the man you shot,” Eleanor said, filling each word with venom.

  “Where is your mother?”

  “I told you, in the village.”

  “Do you know the location of the energy signature?”

  “On the other side of the cavern.”

  “Take me there.”

  Eleanor led him past Amarok’s other sled, between the mammoth-bone huts, to the center of the village, where Skinner stopped and called, “Dr. Perry? Come out, please! I have your daughter!”