Aeneas could deal with the tentacles. He could deal with the talking statue and floating holograms. But looking out those windows, seeing space flash past, feeling the ship shudder as they began traveling towards the surface…knowing that only a single crack in Stacy’s flesh could force in the vacuum, that a little bit too much heat from reentry could burn them alive, that a fraction of a second of delay in putting on the breaks could cause them to crash into the ground…
It was official. Aeneas was afraid of flying.
When Stacy let them go the poor creature was shivering furiously—and not because of the cold. That actually helped to calm his nerves a little bit.
He refused to put on clothing. If it had been possible he would’ve gone out without the plantsuit. Truth be told, Aeneas thought freezing conditions were the best ones he had yet to experience; stepping out of the Observation Deck, getting that first, head-on gust of blistering, frigid wind and cutting ice, somehow managed to revive him.
He stood there for a moment, eyes closed with tranquil grin, as he soaked in the frozen atmosphere. Now this was more like it.
Re: The Polar Night
It was official. Aeneas was afraid of flying.
When Stacy let them go the poor creature was shivering furiously—and not because of the cold. That actually helped to calm his nerves a little bit.
He refused to put on clothing. If it had been possible he would’ve gone out without the plantsuit. Truth be told, Aeneas thought freezing conditions were the best ones he had yet to experience; stepping out of the Observation Deck, getting that first, head-on gust of blistering, frigid wind and cutting ice, somehow managed to revive him.
He stood there for a moment, eyes closed with tranquil grin, as he soaked in the frozen atmosphere. Now this was more like it.