“I won’t mind disintegrating,” Dolphas proclaimed. In the pilot’s chair, Judson nodded. “But let’s not ricochet into space and starve.”
“Deceleration engines ignited,” Judson reported.
“Whoever dies first, the other has to eat him, okay?”
“Thrusters oriented.”
“It’s survival. Morally permitted.”
“Releasing drag fins.” The straps cut into their shoulders and waists. Ionizing plasma blanketed their ship’s hull and hypnotized Dolphas into silence.
They hurled like a comet but, blessedly, down. Neither cheered, lest they jinx themselves. Judson steered them lower, then Dolphas pulled the parachute lever.
After a soft touchdown, Dolphas spoke again.
“I really would have eaten you.”
Author’s Note: I was wondering what things pilots might talk about to ease the tension during this kind of moment.
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