3
There had to be something unnatural about an oversized fan spinning ridiculously fast above a tiny capsule, keeping it in the air and moving forward at a rate of knots that defied all logic, Sam thought. Not to mention the person entrusted to ensure the capsule did not fall out of the sky and spread like soft butter across the landscape passing lazily some four thousand feet below them, was doing so by holding single-handed onto a stick protruding up between his legs from the floor.
Sam glanced once more out the window at the vista below, and although he was not tired, he wondered if he should close his eyes and take a nap. Perhaps he would sleep until they landed. Then he decided against closing his eyes. If he was going to die in this tiny cocoon, he wanted to see it coming so he wou
