Project Hannibal by Kathryn Hoff (books suggested by elon musk .txt) 📕

knows if they’ll survive if the climate continues to warm?” She glanced at Sera, hoping to see an appreciation for the natural wonders passing under their wings.

Instead, the girl’s eyes were shut tight, her hands gripping the armrest in a white-knuckled stranglehold.

“You all right, chérie?”

Sera replied through clenched teeth. “Fine.”

That word again. “Open your side vent a little—the fresh air will help. There’s a sick-up bag in the door pocket if you need it.”

“I’m fine.” But Sera opened the vent and gulped the cold air.

Gusts pushing between the mountain peaks buffeted the plane. On the western horizon, a line of dark clouds signaled a change in the weather.

“Almost there, chérie.”

The valley broadened where a long-ago glacier had scraped a path between mountains. Ahead, a little landing strip pointed to a collection of some thirty houses.

Estelle banked, circling over the town—her way of letting the close-knit community know an outsider was dropping in. Then she headed into the wind for landing.

Bump, bump. They bounced over the landing strip, an unpaved, grass-pocked scrape in the land.

Estelle taxied over to the mooring anchors and shut down the engines. It had been a lovely flight, showing off the extraordinary scenery. Flying to Rainbow in winter could be a nail-biter, but in the summer her visits always cheered her.

Sera jumped out of the plane, bent over, and threw up.

CHAPTER 11

Awkward

The term “two-man tent,” Luis thought, assumed the two men in question actually wanted to sleep next to one another. Brandon spent the night alternating between huffy silence and recounting every thoughtless thing Luis had ever done, saying that if it weren’t for the mosquitos, he would have preferred to sleep with the mammoths.

Awkward, but Luis wasn’t worried. With a little management, Brandon would come around to being more cooperative, at least long enough for them to reach grid Hb27. And after that? By then, Brandon would be as ready as Luis to bring their relationship to an end.

During Brandon’s silent stretches, Luis had the leisure to think about his future. Seven years he’d devoted to Project Hannibal. He believed in the project: bringing back mammoths was a worthy goal, and Anjou’s genetic expertise was undeniable. As always, it was the human factor that confounded Luis—he hadn’t foreseen the army’s choice of short-term political expediency over preventing a foreseeable environmental catastrophe.

It was a temporary aberration, Luis was sure. Once the herd was deployed, their value would become clear. Enviros would champion the goal of preserving the permafrost layer, the military would be eager to show how they were responding to the climate change crisis, and the general public would fall in love with the idea of mammoths roaming the Arctic again. Manufacturers of plush toys would cash in.

But in the meantime, unless Ginger quickly worked some magic over the Washington bureaucracy, Luis needed a fallback plan.

He loved working with elephants. After he’d gotten his degree in animal behavior, he’d worked in Asia, re-wilding work elephants. But the last time he’d checked, that organization was out of funds and letting staff go. Could he work at a zoo? He cringed at the idea of seeing beasts as magnificent as elephants confined to cages. Could he work in the elephant reserves in Asia and Africa, caring for injured and orphaned animals? Probably not. Those organizations were all focused on training the local people: ex-pat Americans need not apply.

If not elephants, what about other animals? He could train any creature, given enough time and resources. But the only trainers in demand were ones dealing with dogs and cats. After mammoths, training pets seemed trivial.

What about people? He imagined himself applying animal behavior techniques to a class of kindergartners. That was too depressing for words.

When they rose in the morning, the day was warming nicely, but Brandon’s attitude remained decidedly frosty.

“I already checked the weather,” Brandon said, in lieu of a good morning. “The forecast’s gotten even worse: rain and gale-force winds by late afternoon. If you want to stay in the tent, you’re staying alone. I’m heading for that town.”

Luis sighed. Time for a strategic retreat. He still needed Brandon, and a day’s delay, while irksome, was a small price to pay for domestic harmony. “You win. We’ll go together. We’ll take our backpacks, pretend we’re hikers.” And pretend they weren’t quarreling. “Somebody in Cody will lend us some floorspace.”

According to the mammoths’ blips on his tablet, the main herd was grouped half a mile away, no doubt finding plenty to eat. Diamond had wandered a little farther. A bad storm might scatter them, but they’d be safe enough.

The men filled their backpacks with essentials. Brandon lowered the food cache long enough to pull out some packets of the food he liked the least. “It’s always good to have something to barter.” Everything else went back up the tree, with extra guylines to survive the wind.

“I’ve got our GPS fix,” Luis said. “As long as the tablet stays charged, we can find our way back to the cache.”

“Amateur,” Brandon sneered. “A little old-fashioned trail marking is all we need.”

Shouldering his pack, Brandon led the way to the stream. He chopped a blaze in a couple of trees to mark the point, then headed downstream.

Luis slunk behind. He’ll settle down soon. Brandon wanted to be lead dog—all Luis had to do was show a little submissive behavior and he’d be happy, thinking he was in charge again.

After an hour of walking and wading along the streambank, they were still miles from the settlement of Cody when Brandon stopped and held up a fist. Over the gurgling of the stream, the sound of hammering was faint, but clear.

Luis nodded, hiding his amusement. Does he think we’re behind enemy lines?

They proceeded slowly, looking for the campsite—except it