Post by tetrus on Mar 19, 2009 17:31:40 GMT -5
"This is ground control, you are cleared for takeoff. God speed." Crackled the message through a single plastic-grated speaker on the dashboard panel of the maintenance vehicle.
Thor picked up the receiver, attached by a coiled cord to the dash, and clicked in the thumb button. "Roger, ground control. Have a good rest of the day down there!" He reached for a magnificently ostentatious dial on the dash and twisted it, filling the cabin with the fluttering soundscape of David Bowie's "Space Oddity".
As the thrusters fired and the utility craft lifted off, the sky became a sublime blue, shifting and phasing like an ocean of plasmatic azure spirit. More and more brilliant it became, until stars began to peek out from in between the tiniest pinpoint holes in that sea of blue.
"Can you hear me Major Tom? Can you hear me..." Thor sang along, reclining in the pilot's seat as the glow of atmosphere receded beneath him and above, the all-encompassing panorama of stars unfolded.
Before long, the craft had reached orbital sphere 7, a distance from the surface of Ganymede at which a small, slow-moving utility vehicle like this one could easily maintain orbit around the moon.
Thor removed a warm jacket from one of a series of button snaps attached to the wall and put it on. He moved to the doorway and unlocked it, pulled the latch and slid it open. Floating before him was a fleet of spacecrafts of all shapes and sizes; most were at rest, many were silently and gracefully gliding up or down in relation to the brilliant world lighting everything from beneath. And beyond it all was the starfield, forever.
Thor planted a boot on the edge of the doorway and kicked himself gently away from his ship, and began to float.
He smiled contentedly to himself, thinking, If I didn't need money or food I'd just do this forever...
He unzipped a jacket pocket and withdrew a rather gaudy, ancient-looking personal telephone and dialed in the number of a friend, pressing it to his ear. He had a minute or two before he would reach the orbital station he was now floating towards, figuring he may as well give a little warning that he was going to arrive there.
Thor picked up the receiver, attached by a coiled cord to the dash, and clicked in the thumb button. "Roger, ground control. Have a good rest of the day down there!" He reached for a magnificently ostentatious dial on the dash and twisted it, filling the cabin with the fluttering soundscape of David Bowie's "Space Oddity".
As the thrusters fired and the utility craft lifted off, the sky became a sublime blue, shifting and phasing like an ocean of plasmatic azure spirit. More and more brilliant it became, until stars began to peek out from in between the tiniest pinpoint holes in that sea of blue.
"Can you hear me Major Tom? Can you hear me..." Thor sang along, reclining in the pilot's seat as the glow of atmosphere receded beneath him and above, the all-encompassing panorama of stars unfolded.
Before long, the craft had reached orbital sphere 7, a distance from the surface of Ganymede at which a small, slow-moving utility vehicle like this one could easily maintain orbit around the moon.
Thor removed a warm jacket from one of a series of button snaps attached to the wall and put it on. He moved to the doorway and unlocked it, pulled the latch and slid it open. Floating before him was a fleet of spacecrafts of all shapes and sizes; most were at rest, many were silently and gracefully gliding up or down in relation to the brilliant world lighting everything from beneath. And beyond it all was the starfield, forever.
Thor planted a boot on the edge of the doorway and kicked himself gently away from his ship, and began to float.
He smiled contentedly to himself, thinking, If I didn't need money or food I'd just do this forever...
He unzipped a jacket pocket and withdrew a rather gaudy, ancient-looking personal telephone and dialed in the number of a friend, pressing it to his ear. He had a minute or two before he would reach the orbital station he was now floating towards, figuring he may as well give a little warning that he was going to arrive there.