They nodded silently, strapping themselves securely to the hammock.
Three seconds ... two, one. Release the top button. Press the panel full around, all the way ... there go the bow belly-jets—stern jets topside.... Top button, all the way in, twist it—
The Moon swam into the viewscreen, was shrinking fast, too fast. No, slowing a little....
He swung the screen to full stern, and Earth was rushing up, not quite yet filling it.
Speed in thousands per second ... sixteen ... fifteen point five—fifteen. The needle fell so slowly. Gravs were coming up, one point five—two full. Over two now, and speed falling a little faster.
Earth filled the screen.
And then he took his eyes from the dials, for he knew that whatever they read, he was at the full mercy of the ship itself. The top button was all the way in, and locked. She was giving all she had.
When the grav indicator quivered at four, Doug slumped to the deck, unable to stand. He rolled to his back, winced, and tried to keep his eyes on the grav needle.
They blurred, stung in oceans of hot tears. The shrill siren-scream of atmosphere pierced the thick, heavily insulated hull and Doug knew what was coming—heat, unbearable heat.