Too High Too Fast

It began as a vibration, which became a rattle. Loose objects clattered to the floor. "What is it?" she asked, sliding her fingers against the dirty touch screen.

"A panel is loose on the hull," said Arlo, snapping switches.

"Is it important?" asked Nathan from behind them.

"I'd say so."

She was on her feet then, tripping over a helmet and slipping on a pencil as she stumbled towards the cargo bay. "Then someone has to screw it down."

Nathan followed her, panic in his voice. "Are you nuts? We're almost to entry! Once you go out you won't be able to get back in!"

"I'll use a jump suit." She pulled it from the rack with more violence than was necessary. The entire ship was shaking. Nathan had to raise his voice just to be heard.

"Those things aren't meant for this altitude!"

"Well, we won't be at this altitude for long."

"We won't be at any altitude if we don't fix that panel!" Arlo shouted back. "I don't like it but we don't have much choice."

The helmet sealed over her head with a hiss, blasting her face with processed air and the acrid smell of a sterilizing cleaner. She glanced at the control panel on her arm as she went to rummage through the tools, pulling out the case with the driver and screws. The gloves were thick and made her fingers clumsy. "Seal off the bay, I'm going out!"

"Jo..." Nathan murmured, but he backed out. The door clanged shut and there was a hiss of air. She swung the heavy bars that locked the emergency hatch and slid it back, then swung out to the side of the ship, and shoved it back into place. It latched behind her.

It was silent, and it felt still. There were enough bars and cords and ladders to hold onto as she pulled herself along the hull, not daring to look around her. The ship shook beneath her. Near the top she saw a panel banging slowly open and closed. She crept carefully to it and peered inside. Some of the insulation had torn away and there were wires and pipes exposed to the vacuum. She wouldn't be surprised if they were losing some air too. No wonder they were rattling. Entry would only make it worse. She pushed the panel into place and set the case on it, and fumbled for the driver and screws. It didn't have to be pretty. It didn't even have to be sound. It just had to be tight enough to get them down.

As she worked something brushed gently against her back and shoulders, and at the same time, something else pulled her slowly back. "Jo, we're starting entry," said Arlo. "How's it coming?"

"It's coming," she said. "I'll do my best. This is what we get for buying third-hand."

"Third at least," corrected Nathan.

Her mouth was drying in the processed air. A sense of vertigo hit her and the ship lurched beneath her. The case slid away and out into the void. She drove one more screw then released the driver, it spun away into darkness.

Only then did she turn, to find her entire vision filled with green and blue and white. She was starting to catch sounds: the shaking of the ship, a high whistling of the thin atmosphere.

"It's good," she said. "I'm gonna jump."

"It doesn't have enough fuel to get you down from here!" protested Nathan.

"That's what the parachute is for. See ya on the ground." She didn't really move, just let the air and the gravity yank her away from the ship. Or was it the ship that got yanked from her? She touched the control panel on her left arm without looking; she had jumped enough times to know the keys by feel. The computer came to life and instantly panicked and squawked at her. Too high. Too fast.

"Emergency procedure," she told it. She fed in the landing target coordinates. Close to their landing site, but not on top of it.

The suit grabbed her. Thrusters fired from the backpack: micro-verniers meant to slow her down and move her into position and keep her from falling into an uncontrollable, limb-removing spin. She exhaled then. She had jumped many times before--not so high, of course. Not so fast. She tilted her head back and let herself look at the ground. Who had been with her the first time? Alec? Jim? She couldn't remember.

And then she was released from the grip of the thrusters and plummeted towards the planet. Her own scream pierced her ears as she flailed in blind panic for a few seconds. She hadn't screamed since she was a kid and it made her angry. She pounded the control panel. "You stupid--"

Her HUD flashed to remind her it was under emergency procedure, that it had to economize fuel and adjust for the landing target. It was too calm. She was starting to tumble. The suit suddenly grabbed her again and swung her around. She choked as bile burned her throat. She swallowed violently to keep it down.

The speakers crackled by her ears. "Jo--you okay? Lost visual--"

She swallowed again and keyed the mike. "Alive," she managed. There was no response. Moisture sprinkled the faceplate. It was growing warm. The main thrusters adjusted to slow her down. There was no sign of the ship. Features were slowly forming in the land below.

The thrusters cut again. She cursed as she plunged suddenly downward, turning to look skyward and watch space slowly fade away above her. Her breath was ragged; she could feel a hard pounding in her chest. "So dumb..." she muttered. But if she hadn't done it, would she be in any better a position? Would they? She took a deep breath.

And found she couldn't. She choked and coughed and once again forced herself to swallow hard. She pounded the panel again. Rationing oxygen, the HUD told her.

"Rationing...oh come on..."

The suit grabbed her and slowed her down yet again. It dropped and caught her three more times as clouds began to slide around her, hiding both land and sky from view. It started to get cold. She wasn't in the right clothes for this sort of thing.

And then it beeped a wild warning, and deployed the parachute. She was still so high.

She was yanked out of her fall with a jerk she felt deep in her torso. Her shoulders burned. The silver fabric snapped and rattled above her. For a long moment, it was the only sound in the cold air. She passed through a cloud and all was white refracted through drops on the face-shield before the ground reappeared below her.

And then the whole rig jerked in a way it definitely shouldn't. 

There was a snap behind her right ear and the HUD started flashing as she reached up and seized the right cord, just as it came loose. She slung her gloved hand around the flat cord and it instantly tightened. Now she couldn't reach the control panel. She groaned as she pulled, and she swung around. She was warned she was moving away from the landing target. She was swinging downwards in wide arcs. Her fingers were going numb, but she could still feel the cord sliding against her palm. She angled sharply, and leaned hard on the cord to get herself straight.

It slipped from her glove and once again she plummeted downwards. The computer released the other side. It beeped warnings but she continued to fall.

"Do something, you stupid... Fine! I'm taking the wheel!" She hit the override code. It screamed at her. She was too high and too fast and the fuel was nearly gone. She didn't care. The manual handles popped from the wrist guards. Well, the left popped from the wrist guard, the right slid slowly and petulantly out, probably wanting for fluid. She pulled at it, then seized them both. She keyed the main thruster, spinning herself towards the landing target. The fuel gage lit up on the HUD, flashing at her, letting her know just how much fuel she had left. It wasn't much.

She groaned and released the main thruster, and let herself coast for a few long seconds, keying it again as she started to tumble. Rinse and repeat. The ground was finally coming up to meet her. That was fast. A little too fast. Was she going that fast?

She cursed and pulled herself up to fly parallel to all the brown and green; the thrusters spluttered and went out, and she glided briefly before sliding down into the dirt faster than she should have, throwing the green and brown everywhere as she slid on the soft and struck the hard, finally slowing to a halt face down and half buried in the rich soil. 

It was dark and moist and filled her helmet with a heady scent. There must be a crack somewhere. She hadn't smelled freshly turned soil for so long. It stirred old memories, and for a moment she let herself think of vegetables and little bugs and pretty rocks instead of rickety ships and the ache in her neck and shoulders and the burn in her throat.

There was a rhythmic thumping, first distant then growing stronger, and a great deal of shouting. "Jody! Jo! Are you okay? Are you alive? Hey!"

She managed to move an arm. She lifted it, up out of the dark soil, clenching her fist and raising a thumb. "No problem," she mumbled. They couldn't hear her yet but they could see her. "All in a day's work. It was just a little high, and a little fast."