The Icarus Project by Laura Quimby Page A

the harnesses to the other side of the dog pen.
    “So where is she going if she can’t stay here?” I asked. I held the dog in my arms, raking my fingers through her speckled fur. They couldn’t just send her away. She wasn’t that small. And what was wrong with being small? Nothing, that’s what.
    Kyle stood and rocked back on his heels, a big black-and-gray husky tangled up in his legs.
    “Can I keep her?” I blurted out suddenly. Right away I knew Dad would kill me. First, no tusks, and now I had put in a request for a live animal. “Please?” It was crazy, but I didn’t want her to go. I felt an instant connection with her. She was meant to be mine. I just knew it.
    “You would have to ask Randal,” West replied. “After yesterday, he might be in a generous mood. But you might also want to ask your dad. I don’t know how he would react to a dog suddenly joining you. And then you’d need to ask if it’s OK with Justice. But I don’t see why he would mind.” A dog poked his muzzle in West’s hand, looking for a treat.
    “I’ll ask, so don’t send her away yet,” I said. “I think she likes me.” Cinnamon had snuggled inside the crook of my arm and was wagging her tail.
    “Two girls sticking together,” West said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    Justice entered the hut, looking cool in his aviator sunglasses. “Who’s ready to hit the powder and go for a run?”
    “We’re ready!” Kyle yelled.
    Dog barks filled the hut.
    “Justice will be driving the sled out to the site. He trains all our dogs.” West gave Justice a pat on the back.
    “What a cool job,” Kyle said. “I’d love to be outside flying the helicopter and working with dogs all day.”
    “I’ve been raising dogs my whole life. More of a love than a job. My ancestors have lived in this area for generations.Dogs are as important to us as people. They’re members of our family.”
    “Even the runts?” I asked. I nudged West with my elbow. He and Justice exchanged a smile.
    “Well, all of the dogs have a place. Maybe not at the front of the pack, but we find roles for them. Sometimes the role is just as a companion. But that can be an important job, too.” Justice scratched the top of Cinnamon’s head and she wiggled out of my arms. She leaped and jumped and yapped, but she looked tiny in comparison to the other dogs.
    “When we hitch the dogs up, can I drive?” Kyle begged. “Please?”
    “We’ll see,” West said, and winked at Justice.
    Justice went outside to harness the dogs and get the sled ready. Kyle and I followed right behind. The cold nipped at my exposed skin. The dogs danced on the snow. Kyle and I piled onto the back of the sled with Justice. The air was crisp and sharp and clear as glass. Through my goggles, the sky looked like cloudy marshmallows hanging low above our heads.
    The trip out to the dig site was about ten miles. I tucked my head down and enjoyed the ride until Kyle pulled on my sleeve and pointed off in the distance. Silvery domes littered the landscape, clustered together like shiny igloos.
    “That’s where you both are going to be staying tonight,” Justice said.
    Finally, it was real. I was going to my first expedition site.
    A huge white tent, barely visible from a distance, was where the dig was set up. When we reached it, the tent was buzzing with energy, people talking and working. It was like walking into a dream. The site was organized chaos. Dad and Randal were having a discussion, which was a nice way of saying that they were disagreeing. Ivan and Karen were also taking sides in the discussion. Equipment was everywhere. A generator buzzed in the background. To make the scene even more hectic, Jake was circling the group of scientists with his camera.
    “We’ve arrived,” West announced.
    “Hey, you made it.” Dad waved us over.
    “Good. We can take a break and give the kids a tour of the site.” Randal patted Kyle on the back. “Take a good look around. One day you