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Then
the
ship
's
braking
program
hit
us
and
I
stopped
shaking
.
Eight
gees
,
I
would
say
,
or
maybe
ten
.
When
a
female
pilot
handles
a
ship
there
is
nothing
comfortable
about
it
;
you
're
going
to
have
bruises
every
place
you
're
strapped
.
Yes
,
yes
,
I
know
they
make
better
pilots
than
men
do
;
their
reactions
are
faster
and
they
can
tolerate
more
gee
.
They
can
get
in
faster
,
get
out
faster
,
and
thereby
improve
everybody
's
chances
,
yours
as
well
as
theirs
.
But
that
still
does
n't
make
it
fun
to
be
slammed
against
your
spine
at
ten
times
your
proper
weight
.
But
I
must
admit
that
Captain
Deladrier
knows
her
trade
.
There
was
no
fiddling
around
once
the
Rodger
Young
stopped
braking
.
At
once
I
heard
her
snap
,
"
Center-line
tube
...
fire
!
"
and
there
were
two
recoil
bumps
as
Jelly
and
his
acting
platoon
sergeant
unloaded
--
and
immediately
:
"
Port
and
starboard
tubes
--
automatic
fire
!
"
and
the
rest
of
us
started
to
unload
.
Bump
!
and
your
capsule
jerks
ahead
one
place
--
bump
!
and
it
jerks
again
,
precisely
like
cartridges
feeding
into
the
chamber
of
an
old-style
automatic
weapon
.
Well
,
that
's
just
what
we
were
...
only
the
barrels
of
the
gun
were
twin
launching
tubes
built
into
a
spaceship
troop
carrier
and
each
cartridge
was
a
capsule
big
enough
(
just
barely
)
to
hold
an
infantryman
with
all
field
equipment
.
Bump
!
--
I
was
used
to
number
three
spot
,
out
early
;
now
I
was
Tail-End
Charlie
,
last
out
after
three
squads
.
It
makes
a
tedious
wait
,
even
with
a
capsule
being
fired
every
second
;
I
tried
to
count
the
bumps
--
bump
!
(
twelve
)
bump
!
(
thirteen
)
bump
!
(
fourteen
--
with
an
odd
sound
to
it
,
the
empty
one
Jenkins
should
have
been
in
)
bump
!
--
And
clang
!
--
it
's
my
turn
as
my
capsule
slams
into
the
firing
chamber
then
WHAMBO
!
the
explosion
hits
with
a
force
that
makes
the
Captain
's
braking
maneuver
feel
like
a
love
tap
.
Then
suddenly
nothing
.
Nothing
at
all
.
No
sound
,
no
pressure
,
no
weight
.
Floating
in
darkness
...
free
fall
,
maybe
thirty
miles
up
,
above
the
effective
atmosphere
,
falling
weightlessly
toward
the
surface
of
a
planet
you
've
never
seen
.
But
I
'm
not
shaking
now
;
it
's
the
wait
beforehand
that
wears
.
Once
you
unload
,
you
ca
n't
get
hurt
--
because
if
anything
goes
wrong
it
will
happen
so
fast
that
you
'll
buy
it
without
noticing
that
you
're
dead
,
hardly
.
Almost
at
once
I
felt
the
capsule
twist
and
sway
,
then
steady
down
so
that
my
weight
was
on
my
back
...
weight
that
built
up
quickly
until
I
was
at
my
full
weight
(
0
.
87
gee
,
we
had
been
told
)
for
that
planet
as
the
capsule
reached
terminal
velocity
for
the
thin
upper
atmosphere
.
A
pilot
who
is
a
real
artist
(
and
the
Captain
was
)
will
approach
and
brake
so
that
your
launching
speed
as
you
shoot
out
of
the
tube
places
you
just
dead
in
space
relative
to
the
rotational
speed
of
the
planet
at
that
latitude
.
The
loaded
capsules
are
heavy
;
they
punch
through
the
high
,
thin
winds
of
the
upper
atmosphere
without
being
blown
too
far
out
of
position
--
but
just
the
same
a
platoon
is
bound
to
disperse
on
the
way
down
,
lose
some
of
the
perfect
formation
in
which
it
unloads
.
A
sloppy
pilot
can
make
this
still
worse
,
scatter
a
strike
group
over
so
much
terrain
that
it
ca
n't
make
rendezvous
for
retrieval
,
much
less
carry
out
its
mission
.
An
infantryman
can
fight
only
if
somebody
else
delivers
him
to
his
zone
;
in
a
way
I
suppose
pilots
are
just
as
essential
as
we
are
.
I
could
tell
from
the
gentle
way
my
capsule
entered
the
atmosphere
that
the
Captain
had
laid
us
down
with
as
near
zero
lateral
vector
as
you
could
ask
for
.
I
felt
happy
--
not
only
a
tight
formation
when
we
hit
and
no
time
wasted
,
but
also
a
pilot
who
puts
you
down
properly
is
a
pilot
who
is
smart
and
precise
on
retrieval
.
