Inside Voices Read online

  Winter sired a litter, and one puppy now resided with Penny. Almost an exact copy, only in miniature at present, Blue was only a few months old but with the striking blue eyes of his mother.

  Dr. Bill Barosevik, Army’s second-in-charge, held a PhD in arctic geophysics. He also worked with the USGS on a separate project, studying the effects of increasing populations of migratory birds in the area.

  As Penny approached, Bill grumbled under his breath. Although he was harmless, his normal grouchy demeanor only accentuated his resemblance to a black bear. Dark, curly hair sprouted fur-like from almost every inch of exposed copper skin with matching dark eyes. He was completely different from his assistant and partner, Rita Wickerson, with her tall, lanky frame, pale skin, short spiky blond hair and blue eyes. Bill and Rita had been working with Army for years and years and years, as Rita liked to say, and Rita liked to say a lot. The ride would be quiet without her along for the day.

  While Noah and Army stood next to each other, Penny took in their similarities. Or tried to. There were more differences between them. Noah was tall and sinewy, whereas Army was thicker around his midline and closer to Penny’s five-foot-eight height. Army kept his black hair slicked back into a long braid while Noah held his shoulder-length black curls tucked beneath a black beanie. A beard graced his face and most of his neck. Penny wondered what he looked like without the beard. Then again, did it matter with his amazing eyes? The fact she found him attractive disconcerted Penny; she hadn’t ever truly been attracted to anyone. Plus, he seemed out of her league. Although if she were honest with herself, she never fathomed a league she did fit in. It had been hard relating to her peers before her sister’s illness, and not since the shooting and her father’s death had she cared to try.

  “Penny, help me load up this equipment.” Bill’s rough voice broke her from her musings.

  She jogged over and began handing up the cases for Bill to pack inside the helicopter. The bird, as Army referred to it, was an older Bell helicopter updated with a rotor system that used smart technology to reduce the noise output during flight. Quieter meant less interference with natural animal behaviors. And it yielded a lower carbon footprint.

  Her mother added her cases to the mix. Winter jumped in, settling his canine frame into the seat next to the window behind Noah’s pilot seat. Penny climbed in and sat next to the dog, receiving a friendly sniff and lick on the cheek. A mixture of joy and contentment oozed from the dog. Bill and her mother sat across the aisle.

  “Don’t worry.” Bill tapped her knee. She bent her head toward him, their headsets not yet on, as Noah and Army continued to run through their pre-flight checklist. “Your man is a brilliant pilot.” His dark bearish appearance contrasted with his Irish lilt.

  “Ah, he’s not my man, Bill,” Penny said, her voice quiet. Her skin burned, and she hoped no one else heard the bearish man’s comment.

  He shook his head, a disgusted look on his face. “No, I mean him, Noah. That chap. Guy. You Americans take our slang literally, but we are supposed to not take your slang literally.” He continued to grumble under his breath as he placed his headset on his blocky head.

  Penny shared a rueful smile with her mother. “I know he flies. He does at Prudhoe, right? I.”

  Bill lifted his chin quickly in response.

  “Easy peasy, Billie,” said Noah through the headset. “The weather couldn’t be more perfect, so we should have a great flight today.” Noah gave Penny a grin over his shoulder. Curling edges of black-inked tribal tattoos peeked from underneath the sleeves of Noah’s blue plaid shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if challenging the cold outside to interfere with his flight. “Buckle up kids. Time to be airborne.”

  Penny’s excitement teetered at the reference to kids. To change the direction of her thoughts, she pulled out her tablet and brought up a map of the area with an array of colored dots.

  The team’s research was funded under the USGS, in which Army held a position, so the team coordinated efforts to remove or repair collars during their biochip research. The chips offered a way to monitor both sexes of bears as male polar bears' necks grew so think a collar would fall off.

  On their electronic mapping system, red dots marked the uncollared bears the team had tagged thus far. Purple dots indicated collared and chipped bears. Blue dots indicated the collared bears the team tracked to remove the collars and replace them with the biochip. The green dots showed the location of collared bears that would stay collared.

  Army gazed at the same map on his handheld in the front, guiding Noah in the direction of the day’s target, the collared bears.

  As the helicopter took to the skies, Penny’s stomach plummeted to her feet where it would undoubtedly stay until they landed, or until she fell asleep. She maintained a firm, one-handed grip on the seat while her other hand manipulated the computerized map.

  “Off to your left, folks, you will see the edge of the world on the horizon,” came Noah’s voice in Penny’s headset. She smiled at the never-ending joke the team shared—not the end, just the edge.

  The arctic waters off to the left reminded her how small and insignificant she was, and the question rose within her, “How exactly will you make one bit of difference?”

  A pod of eight Beluga whales appeared below, their sleek, white torpedo bodies sliding through the frigid waters. The suddenness with which the sorrow hit her stole her breath. Her father would have loved this. He would have finagled Army into giving him a role on the team. Penny lived her family’s dream without her father. Her eyes burned, and she stared off toward the sun, willing the tears away. No one needed to see her emotional meltdown. She bit her lips together as Winter nosed her shoulder. It would be alright. Her father was still with her in spirit. She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes as inconspicuously as possible while she rubbed Winter’s head. She didn’t think anyone noticed.

  If she looked closely out the side window, the two houses to the east of town where Army and Penny lived would be visible. Houses and buildings blended into the bland landscape, standing out with their symmetrical shadows. The research station sat further south of the airport and was not visible with their current course.

  The ice long ago retreated significantly from the coastline and most bears were landlocked earlier than normal. The warming arctic continued its push on the bears to alter their routines.

  The whale bone pile, located at the point of Utqiaġvik, held the hulking remains of the carcasses that were dumped following harvest by the indigenous hunters. That and the local garbage dump happened to be a popular hangout for many polar bears.

  On her tablet, Penny counted three biochipped bears at the bone pile at the point of Utqiaġvik. On a whim, she asked Noah to do a flyby.

  Bill and Army searched out the windows, counting the bears rummaging through the decaying carcasses.

  “Six bears,” Bill grumbled through his mic.

  “Alright, Bill. Doc. Set up to tag the other three,” Army responded.

  Eelyn pulled out biochips encased within a syringe apparatus and passed them to Penny to be scanned. Once Penny logged the tracking number and returned them to Eelyn, she loaded up the dart gun that would inject the biochips into the thick back fat of the bear. The bear’s own body would provide energy to activate the chip. Embedded, the chip would begin sending its data to the team’s database where it would be broken down into useful information. Should the bear perish, the chip would only function for a brief period, and the team would receive notification.

  While Noah held the helicopter steady, Bill shot each bear out of the window. The appearance of a red dot coinciding with a beep. That notified Penny of the activation of each chip on her monitor, and Eelyn confirmed the purple dye through binoculars. The retraction mechanism created a flash of non-toxic purple dye that would be visible on the back of the bear and demonstrated a successful retraction of the needle and release of the syringe case. They would be able to retrieve the waterp
roof and buoyant case after the bears had left the area later that day.

  Due to the size differences, the three unchipped bears most likely were a mother and her two cubs so Penny keyed in that information. Noah did a wide sweep to ensure the bears didn’t react poorly to the tagging before heading out along the coast.

  Penny rubbed the tiny figurine in her pocket and wondered how the rest of the day would present.

  Bear(ly) There

  It was another hour before the next bear came into view. With the thump-thumping of the helicopter blades, the lack of conversation, and the bright sun, Penny dozed. Bill nudged her, startling her awake. As she attempted to slow her heart rate, she brushed her mouth, removing any drool that may have snuck out before Winter might assist. The fuzzy image of a scarred polar bear fading into nothingness.

  Army called out one of the collared bears they sought. She traveled upon the tundra along the coastline far from the town of Utqiaġvik. Noah hovered over the tundra so Bill could hit his target that had come into sight - an adult female, eight years old. Bill called out the young cub he spied that trailed the female. Penny itched to perform the darting, but she had yet been given an opportunity to prove her skill.

  After a smooth landing, the crew disembarked with their equipment. Army placed a loose-fitting rope around the neck of the cub to establish some control over it although the cub, small for its age, clung to its mother. Penny longed to cuddle the furry cub, but its anxious mental outbursts were too much even from ten feet away. Besides, her outerwear worked best without tear marks, and the little cub was still formidable at over ninety pounds. Her mother eyeballed the cub and provided a tranquilizer dose for it as well so that the team could accomplish a complete exam on both.

  With the cub sedated, Penny approached the female. Overwhelming awe cuffed Penny for the umpteenth time as she stood near the six-hundred-pound bear. Her throat tightened as she took her gloves off and buried her fingers into the bear’s thick coat. The sunlight glinted off the long, luminescent hair shafts. Bits of twigs and short grasses adhered to the dingy coat turning her into more of a muddy tan bear than a white one.

  Squatting down at the female’s feet, Penny inspected the paws. The forepaw dwarfed her hand by a good four inches. The black pads were thick and highly sensitive. The scent glands on the toes left behind a unique marking wherever they walked, allowing a male to track a female for great distances. Penny ran a fingertip over the length and curve of the smooth claw, perfect for grasping seals from small holes in the ice.

  Eelyn called out parameters to Penny for recording, so Penny stood and began entering the data into her handheld computer. The doctor collected samples: blood, hair, and fecal for later analysis as it was imperative to get a read on the animal’s condition.

  The adult appeared to be in fair condition. Her cub did not. It was small, borderline emaciated. Normally, females give birth between October and December, so at this stage the cub would be seven to nine months old and about the size of a giant breed dog. Noah relayed the cub’s weight from the hanging scale to Penny - ninety-two pounds.

  The team hoped to discover a way to help the creatures in the warming climate, to improve understanding of the animal’s biology, and to lead to recovery in their status in the years ahead. Greater periods of time on land meant fewer fat reserves from the consumption of seals by the threatened bears and harder maternity periods for the females who spent roughly five months in a den nursing cub(s) without taking in any sustenance. Other bears hibernated during winter months. Polar bears hunted. They required significant fat to sustain them in their frigid environment and during denning. Unique to the marine bear, their metabolism slowed when faced with limited food sources.

  Penny stood and surveyed the scene; she was stricken with the plight of not just this, but all the creatures faced with a changing world. Her mother needed a bit longer with her sample collection, so Penny took a short walk away from the bear. The wind was brisk, but the pungent musk of the bear had started to become intense. Plus, she could only fawn over the slumbering creatures so long before the others started to think her odd.

  The cold breeze carried the tang of the briny sea from the nearby shore. Impressive pinkish-purple blossoms of dwarf fireweed opened for the sun. The fragrant flowers were much too small for their scent to overpower that of the sea. She glanced up to watch the geese flying low overhead, honking noisily. The extreme numbers of geese around the area caused destruction of the tundra, which in turn released more carbon dioxide into the air and escalated warming of the area. The geese might very well provide a supplemental food source for the bears. The teams’ studies thus far indicated it was occurring, but would it be enough overall?

  Noah stood off closer to the ocean, his beanie hanging out of his back pocket while he play-wrestled with Winter. His shiny black curls bounced and glistened in the sunlight. She heard his laugh and the frisky growling of Winter.

  The tundra behind them ridged and then dropped off to an unseen beach. Army, Bill and her mother were still gathered near the mother bear and cub with the helicopter waiting silently behind them. Penny began to pull her phone out to take a few pictures.

  As her gaze returned to Noah and the jumping wolf-dog, black spots swarmed her vision. She attempted to blink them away without success. Heat surged up her back, and the horizon swayed. She bent over, hands on her thighs, and closed her eyes. A vision rose up of Noah and Winter, almost like a memory. Only this wasn’t a memory. She had not before witnessed a great white bear appearing behind Noah on this same crest. A rearing bear with three long, black scars across its left cheek.

  The strange visions Penny perceived lately were foggy and difficult to understand, like the overcast landscape. This vision, however, was distinct. The vision that was not a memory continued: Noah turned and fell on his knee as the bear advanced. Winter launched himself at the bear’s throat.

  She blinked rapidly. Noah and Winter were still playing. Glancing at her watch, she calculated the time they had been on the ground. The team had not spotted any other bears in the area before landing. Another bear could have approached given the time they had been working on the female.

  Her heart thumped in her chest as she scanned the area. She began to walk toward Noah, the clear vision replaying in her memory. Noah, with his beanie removed, looked just like the Noah from the brief vision. The bear would be coming from behind Noah, most likely from the unseen beach.

  She jogged over to Noah, her heart thrumming loudly in her ears, and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Hey Penny.” Noah flashed her a toothy grin. “Everyone ready to go?”

  “Noah…” The odd sensation of déjà vu hit her with urgency. “Bear!” she yelled back over her shoulder to the other team members. “Big bear!”

  Two fistfuls of Noah’s coat in hand, Penny pulled him away from the slope, tripping on a stone in the process. She discerned Winter’s confusion in her mind and pushed aside her fear, hoping to soothe the dog. She tripped and pulled Noah down to the spongy ground.

  Bill ran past them with the dart gun extended. As he peered over the ridge, he fired the gun.

  “I need another dose. Hurry,” he shouted.

  As Eelyn ran past, Penny dropped her head against Noah’s chest where she rested atop him. So…the vision had not materialized. Could she have really just prevented a situation? That would be a first. She slowly rolled off a silent Noah. The relief that momentarily greeted her soon became drowned by a guilt that constantly lurked in the depths of her mind.

  Penny, you cannot stop every bad thing from happening.

  I would like to prevent just one. Save one. Although, would it make up for anything? The lives snuffed out? Her father’s death? These questions she replayed over and over but without resolution. If only the vision had provided a glimpse of the person from her class who aided in such violence. If only she had known her father would die. If only she had known. If only. But the vision had not granted her the informat
ion she wished to have had, and wishing for something was as futile as the worrying. What was done was done. She should focus her energy on figuring out how to use the visions instead of worrying about what she couldn’t do. So, then, why couldn’t she stop the brooding?

  Noah gave her a questioning look as he rolled up. Standing, he offered her a hand up before hurrying to Bill’s side and gazing at the scene below on the beach.

  “What happened?” asked Eelyn on her approach.

  Penny remained silent as Army rushed past with a second tranquilizer gun.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said as they all looked down from the ridge.

  Below the steep drop off on the pebbled grey beach lay a massive polar bear. A dead walrus bobbed in the sluggish surf nearby.

  “He’s a monster,” said Eelyn. “I bet he weighs a ton.”

  Army handed Noah the gun and retreated to get more supplies.

  Eelyn informed them that the female and her cub still slept; she had not administered the reversal injection, so they had plenty of time to work on the bear below. The team made their way to the beach via a precarious route down the eroded tundra, between blocks of frozen ground tangled with soggy, slippery mud and slick gravel.

  “It was a good thing I loaded up a backup tranquilizer,” Bill groused as Eelyn made a quick exam of the massive male bear. With the extra rope Army procured from the helicopter, the team struggled to roll him far enough from the water.

  Standing at his head, the three jagged, black scars that marred its left cheek captivated her. “It’s him,” Penny breathed, her hand hovering over her pocket.

  Noah, standing beside her, glanced at her. “Him?”