The journey down from the Grove was a different beast entirely. On the way up, the mountain climber had battled gravity with the desperate, roaring urgency of a rescue mission, the engine screaming against the incline. Now, on the way down, gravity was the enemy. The massive, heavy-treaded vehicle had to fight for every inch of friction against the slick, frozen shale, the transmission whining in low gear as it tried to hold back tons of steel from becoming a runaway sled.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere had shifted from terrified silence to a warm, cautious vigilance. Finnegan had refused the passenger seat again. He sat on the reinforced floor, his long legs sprawled out to brace against the bulkhead, with Leela nestled securely between them, her back resting against his broad chest.
