Orbital

Three Aerodynamic

MOTHER OF GOD!!! My heat shield is vibrating so much I think my brain is going to snap from my spine and turn to apple sauce in my skull.

If going down in the Unicorn space capsule last time was like being a penny in a dryer, this is like being a penny in a dryer inside a tilt-a-whirl in a hurricane during an earthquake as the world gets sucked into a black hole.

Heat shield? It’s a goddamn inflatable raft. There’s no top to this thing. I can see damn stars out the side of my visor!

Man was not meant to do this.

If I could time travel back to that kid on the hill I’d knock his lawnmower wheels off and tell him to go inside and play video games for crying out loud.

“DDDDDDAAAAAAAAVVVVVVIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDD?????” says Laney’s scratchy voice over the comm.

I start to speak but my teeth are chattering so much much I’m afraid I’m going to chip them. Instead, I manage to hum something.

Oh crap. I thought the vibration was bad. Now there’s the weird high pitch wailing sound like air blowing air over an open bottle. Must be demons. Has to be. No other reasonable explanation.

Lord Satan, I accept! Just stop the noise!

Nope. He still won’t shut up.

Oh crap! I see fucking flames shooting up over the edge of the raft!

Wait? Is that flames or ionized air? Flames mean my Space Raft of Ultimate Doom is deteriorating underneath me and I’m seconds away from burning alive. Ionized air means I’m one giant goddamn neon sign in the sky.

“LLLLLLLAAAAAAANNNNNNNEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY?”

Not even static. That means the channel is being blocked by the electric charge of all those electrons whoring it up around the air molecules I’m battering with my space raft.

But it could be fire too…

I take a whiff and smell the scent of fear and stupidity as I realize I’m trying to smell something outside my spacesuit.

How the hell did they let me be an astronaut in the first place?

Oh, right. I was the dumb guy that volunteered to be the guinea pig they tested all the stuff they didn’t want killing the real astronauts. Letting me into space was more of an oversight.

Oh crap. I can see a pinkish red glow all around me now. I totally feel tingly. Heck, is this the way to Asgard?

How much longer? I forgot to check my wrist display before I re-entered the atmosphere. Jesus Christ. I just re-entered the atmosphere — on a damn raft.

Okay, do the math in your head, David. How fast were we traveling? About 17,000 miles an hour give or take. Alright, how long does it take to slow down? Um, what’s my weight and the surface area of this heat shield? Beats me.

Okay. So let’s just wait a while. Hopefully the folks down at Ops realize what kind of idiot they’re dealing with and will chime in once I can actually get a radio signal.

Shoot, how long has it been? I have to be going a mere 10,000 miles an hour right now. I should probably wait until I’m at 1,000 before I bail out.

Is it getting hot in here?

Holy cow! I can feel the heat from the glowing wall of fire all around me! It’s like every damn Arby’s heating lamp in the world is trying to fry my ass.

They said this suit could deal with the heat.

They also said it had never been tested and Congress shut down the program.

“DA…” says a disconnected voice over the comm.

“It’s me!” No kidding. Who the hell else were they expecting? The air monkey gremlin that tried to tear apart William Shatner’s jet engine in the Twilight Zone?

Thanks for that mental image. I can still hear the demon howling sound. Now I’ve got a face to put to it.

Heck, if one of them showed up right now I’d totally be cool with it — because then I won’t have to die alone.

“David? Check are you reading us?”

“Affirmative!” I have to yell in order to be heard over the loudest wind any human has ever been subjected to.

The glow around my space raft has begun to flicker.

“We’re getting…”

And nothing. It’ll be fine in another second.

“…metry. Over.”

“Could you repeat that?”

“We’re getting your telemetry now. You’ll need to bail out in two minutes time.”

“Can’t I just hold on to the raft?”

“Not with the weight of the nuclear device.”

“Oh. Right. How selfish of me. Um, how am I going to float with this thing strapped to my chest?”

“You won’t have to. Unless you land in a lake. Your trajectory is taking you over Western Australia.”

“Oh. Cool. Um, aren’t there more poisonous snakes there than anywhere else in the world?”

“No. That’s a lie they tell to keep tourists away. But don’t take your spacesuit off. And don’t pick up any funny looking sticks.”

BANG!!!

Suddenly my space raft goes limp and begins to wrap around my body.

“David?”

“I have an equipment malfunction! Hold on!”

I’m spinning so wildly I can’t even think of a metaphor in the heat of the moment. Hell, it’s hot too!

I have to get out of this thing! Every direction I try to move the raft just flops around me.

Think, David!

I grab my space knife — my term for it — and jab it into the material and try pulling myself towards the edge.

There’s a flash of blue as I catch a glimpse of sky.

Keep going! One more puncture…

A blast of hypersonic wind hits my face mask and I’m knocked off the space raft.

Arms flat. Body straight. Clinch those thighs, girl, lest you want to lose your legs at Mach 5.

I’m spinning around and see wide open brown ground. Well, g’day.

Okay..I’m not going Mach Infinity.

Spread those arms wide open. Stabilize your descent.

Okay, we’re looking good. Um, where’s the handle on this parachute?

“Hey Ops? Anybody check the manual on this para-SHIT! Oh that hurts!”

“We believe it’s automatic. In case you black out.”

“Yeah. Put a definite, “yes” on that one. My chute has deployed.” I can’t even fathom where my balls just shifted to.

Baylor, the Air Force sadist running this part of the operation, takes over the comm. “Do you still have the nuke?”

“I love you too,” I reply to her then look down at the huge case strapped to my chest. “Yes. It’ll be the reason I break my ankles on landing.”

“Excellent. I mean…be careful…”

I know what you’re really worried about. There’s no kidding me.