The pilot had no choice. He went through the plane's airlock and jumped, helped by a hearty boost from Jonner. His parachute blossomed out as he drifted down toward the green Syrtis Major Lowland. Jonner didn't worry about him. He knew the pilot's helmet radio would reach Marsport and a helicopter would rescue him shortly.
"I don't know what you're trying to do, Jonner," said Deveet apprehensively over his spacehelmet radio. "But whatever it is, you'd better do it fast. They'll have every plane on Mars looking for us in half an hour."
"Let 'em look, and keep quiet a while," retorted Jonner. "I've got some figuring to do."
He put the plane on automatic, took off the spacesuit handhooks and scribbled figures on a scrap of paper. He tuned in the plane's radio and called Qoqol on Phobos. They talked to each other briefly in Martian.
The darker green line of a canal crossed the green lowland below them.
"Good, there's Drosinas," muttered Jonner. "Let's see, time 1424 hours, speed 660 miles an hour...."
Jonner boosted the jets a bit and watched the terrain.
"By Saturn, I almost overran it!" he exclaimed. "Deveet, smash out those ports."
"Break out the ports?" repeated Deveet. "That'll depressurize the cabin!"
"That's right. So you'd better be sure your spacesuit's secure."