Read Noah Zarc: Mammoth Trouble (Noah Zarc, #1) for Free Online Page B

at me.
    “At least, not as good as I do.”
    “Precisely my point.” Hamilton glanced at our sister. “Autopilot could take us down, but what if something goes wrong? Noah has flown hundreds of hours more than we have combined, and frankly, you’re the best acquainted with how to handle a somewhat unrefined populace.”
    “Are you saying I’m the only one who speaks caveman ?” Sam sighed. “I just don’t feel right about all of us going down. If something happened, there’d be no one to rescue Mom, Dad, or any of us.”
    “The greatest danger will be leaving the ship to search for Mom and Dad,” Hamilton said. “Noah can take us down, and once there he can stay on board the Morning Star . If something happens to us, he can return immediately to the ARC .”
    “Now, wait a minute—”.
    “No,” Sam said. “Either you promise to stay on the Morning Star or you don’t go down at all.”
    I knew she wasn’t going to change her mind on this.
    “I promise.”
    She smiled. “Besides, if we get eaten by a cave bear, you can be the hero who saves the universe all by yourself.”
    The ship’s computer chimed. “Entering Earth orbit, 8512 BC.”
    I pushed my chair past Hamilton and Sam and boarded the Morning Star .

    Despite all the trouble I manage to get in, I really am a great pilot. Mom said I should’ve been born a bird.
    But I admit, my stomach was in knots as I sat in the pilot’s seat ready to go. I told myself it wasn’t nerves, just anticipation—and awareness that this flight couldn’t be more important.
    “Nothing fancy,” Sam said. “We need to get in and out as quickly as possible.”
    “Actually—”
    “Ham! As quickly as possible. ” Sam’s gaze drilled holes into Hamilton, who snapped his mouth shut.
    I could sync my neuro-implant with the Morning Star ’s control and navigational systems. And because I spent my whole life controlling my magchair with my thoughts, I was better equipped than most at piloting a ship. You could fly manually, sure, and there was something satisfying about gripping the yoke with my hands, but I couldn’t imagine flying without my implant.
    Sam swallowed. “Computer, open the bay doors.”
    Two large steel doors opened at the end of the hangar. Stars glittered against the black canvas of space, but they were somewhat obscured by a shimmering energy shield that protected the hangar from depressurization. I released the holding pins on the Morning Star . With soft touches to the maglifters, I rose off the bay floor and pushed the craft forward. Once we were in the air, the artificial gravity dissipated, and we were again floating in zero-g. Matching the spin of the doors as I nudged the ship through the bay doors was the hardest part, and it took all my concentration. I lined up precisely and gave it more thrust. The nose of the Morning Star pierced the energy shield. Seconds later, we were through.
    I looked at the glow of the earth below and gasped. “There’s so much white!”
    “Well, it is the Ice Age,” Sam said.
    “Technically, it’s the end of the last glacial period.” We glared at Hamilton, but he never seemed to get how annoying he could be. “If we’d gone back another thousand years, nearly half of the northern hemisphere would be covered with ice.”
    North America passed several kilometers below us. Ice covered a good part of what would one day be considered Canada, but below that was a landscape filled with millions of lakes and lush green terrain.
    I gave the Morning Star a little more power and moved away from the ARC . When we were clear, I fired up reverse thrusters to slow the ship. Within minutes, we dropped into the atmosphere.
    The edges of the ship’s wings glowed.
    Sun glared off the ice and snow blanketing the top third of the planet. Red and yellow flames flickered past the windows. This is where my years of practice paid off. I knew a degree or two off in either direction would be catastrophic. The friction of