Chapter 40

OKAY, I’M GOING to float out a theory here, and maybe it’s crap, but I’m thinking that the complete absence of color had something to do with the blind kid suddenly being able to see stuff.

’Cause he really could. I waved my hand in front of his face, and he blinked and pulled away.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frowning.

I let my jaw drop open, looking from him to Fang and back, and then Iggy was smiling huge in a way he hardly ever does, and Fang was grinning in a way he hardly ever does, and I felt like skipping around like a ballerina, which, I promise you, I never, ever do.

“What’s going on?” Gazzy asked, coming over to us.

“Iggy can see,” I said, still unable to believe it.

Excitedly Iggy whirled to see the Gasman, and then stopped dead, frowning. He blinked several times.

“It’s . . . it’s gone,” he said in a hollow voice.

“What?”

“You could see?” Gazzy asked.

Iggy turned around again, his head hanging. He sighed heavily, then stiffened. “No! I can see again! I see the white mountains again!”

So here’s the deal: Iggy could see whiteness. He could see the shapes of the cliffs and glaciers, the occasional gray rocks jutting out from the snow, the horizon line where land met sky. When he turned around, the ocean, the rocky shore, everything, went blank.

“I’m cold,” I said after we’d been standing around looking at Iggy look at stuff for a while. “Let’s go inside.”

Lucir station consisted of about fifteen metal buildings raised up on steel stilts. Some of them were connected, like stepping-stones, going up the nearest hill. A few stood alone. Most of them had snowcats and bobsleds and ice trucks parked underneath.

We climbed the stairs, and once again Iggy had to rely on touching the hem of my jacket and concentrating on the sounds around him. I could feel him seething with disappointment.

The door of the building opened into an air lock. We took off our jackets and stuff there, then went through another door into the actual station.

We met the scientists who lived and worked at the station, ignoring their curious looks and unspoken questions. They showed us to the guest quarters, which were in a separate metal hut. It was small but cozy and comfortable, with one room full of bunk beds, four high; a small living room; a bathroom; and a tiny kitchen.

“Hey!” said Brigid, knocking on our door. “You guys want to see some penguins?”

“Yeah,” Iggy muttered bitterly. “Make ’em stand against a white cliff.”

Fang and I looked at each other. Some of us had had new skills show up lately. Would Iggy’s be his eyesight?