SUNGLASESS AND ROCKETS Part 2: The Machine

FARAWAY LANDS

I was upset, so I tried to turn my head and look at her. But a terrible force buried me in the seat at the very last moment. I felt as if an elephant had sat on my chest. Stifled and helpless, I witnessed whole blocks of concrete pulverize in the small windows.

And I didn't care for anything else than the unexpected rebuff from Vanessa. I would not go to the grave without feeling the warmth of her hand one more time. I made a second attempt.

She offered resistance.

I leered.

Oh, God! Darwin was shaking my hand off vigorously; we were next to each other.

All frightened, I quit the handling and looked back toward the front.

Now, a dark night sky invaded the small windows. The acceleration was decreasing. The worst is gone, I said to myself.

I was wrong.

A new force inlaid us in our seats.

"Second stage," Felix's dry voice announced.

I was breathless and tears came to my eyes.

After an instant, the terrible force had dissipated, pushing me forward. Then, I was thrown again to the back of my seat. Acceleration returned and I inhaled hastily.

"We're reaching a velocity of 19,500 miles per hour," the co-pilot announced.

"There's a Russian station in equatorial orbit over the Atlantic Ocean," the doctor added confidently. "If we make it there, I will do the arrangements to take you back to Earth..."

What? A Russian station?

The view from the small windows did not show a night sky anymore, but one of outer space. Myriads of stars were sparkling everywhere.

I felt light...

Were we going into orbit and would we be making an audacious docking with some mysterious space station from the former Soviet Union?

No more than one second had passed before Felix clarified every doubt regarding our destination.

"Assume crash position. We'd been hit."

We'd been hit?

Yes. Something hit us. The ship jolted. Everything was upside down and the nice feeling of lightness disappeared.

"Uncle!" his niece jumped on the other end of the row.

The stars vanished all of a sudden. A total darkness covered the small windows.

"We'll try to glide!" the pilot exclaimed. The cabin declined abruptly, liberating an intense tickling in the passengers' bellies. "Hold on tight!"

Panic restrained me from moving. I couldn't even take my eyes away from the small windows. White dots were showing up in the middle of the blackness. They were not stars. They were lights from Earth.

The ship tipped even more. It seemed like we were flying down sharply. Better said, we were falling off sharply. A reflex move made me bend down, and, at last, I assumed the crash position.

After a few moments, the declivity diminished. The spacecraft was straightening up. I raised my eyes. Dense treetops were sparkling under the lights of our broken Bat.

"Hold on!" the pilot yelled. "Here we go!"

"Oh God!" I exclaimed as if I were taking my last breath.

I bent down again.

The cabin trembled. I knew that we had touched ground.

I couldn't tell if we were rolling or sliding down; the truth is that the spacecraft was hardly jolting. I held my head strongly fearing a spectacular ending.