“Alright, seal your doors! You don’t want to get sucked into the atmosphere, or then you’re an awful big waste of our fine governments' time and money!” Maxwell shouted over the intercom.
Felix checked to make sure his tube was pressure sealed for the fourth time. It was. Just like it had been half an hour ago. Time to drop read 03:22 and counting. Better go ahead and recheck the inventory, just to make sure he had everything. Spare set of mottled olive and grey fatigues. Compass. Electronic map with solar battery. Canteen: heavy, so full. Binoculars. Electronic and written journals. Handheld video camera. Body camera. Helmet. Rope. His tube hadn’t signaled an open compartment, so the rations, tent, and surgical equipment should all be in their respective compartments. Let’s hope it stayed that way. 01:46. Watch still on. Short range communicator. Weapon. Ammunition. Solar powered electronic tablet with a full anthropological library. Felix was satisfied everything was in order. But did he remember his rifle’s scope? He’d only checked it two times-
“Alright! Carolina moving into position!”
Felix looked down through his tube’s lower viewport. The door of his tube’s shoot was retracting. Below was a big gray smear. A cloud. That meant it was going to be a bit bumpy on the way down. And dark. They were already dropping on the side of the planet not illuminated by sun. If there were any sentient natives below then their entrance could be written off as a meteor shower. It was almost comical, a dozen teams of researchers and armed soldiers masquerading as pretty stars. But the expensive precaution had been deemed necessary, as it was unclear how advanced any sentient life on the planet could be, and thus unclear if anyone would try to shoot down a larger craft.
He could see Wyoming Team falling ahead of him. They were tiny specs far below, lighting up as they entered the atmosphere. Felix thought they were seismology, perhaps. They were being dropped towards the coastal mountains that were confirmed to have volcanic activity. Wyoming had a rude squad leader, called Watkins or Waszinsky, or something. A rather condescending fellow.
“Alright!”
Maxwell liked to shout alright. It had been irritating for the first three quarters of the trip, but Felix had gotten used to it during the last.
“Carolina team, all members signal in!”
Felix clicked his tube primers and saw his light wink on in the small computer display. The display showed all team members, the condition and location of their tubes. Felix watched the others click in: Ortega, Powers, Muller, Higgins, LeTrec and finally Tolbert. All seven primed and ready.
“Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more” Tolbert said quietly over the intercom.
It was silent for a few seconds. Or an eternity. It was hard to tell. Could something be amiss?
“Ready Maxwell?” Muller asked.
“One sec- alright, 3, 2, 1, I’m dropping you. Good luck, lads,” Maxwell said.
With that, the inside of Felix’s tube flashed green and the primers holding his tube to the ship detonated overhead. The void yawned below the ship, and a deafening rumbling accompanied Felix as the capsule was sent hurling towards the planet like a bullet fired from a gun. Several Gs began pulling at Felix as he fell. Nothing to do but wait until he was past the mesosphere.
He looked down, but couldn't see anything below his diaphragm. He was passing through the atmosphere and the bottom two thirds of his tube was being enveloped by a cocoon of fire from atmospheric friction. The tube was insulated, but it still began to warm up considerably.
Above him, the ship they had arrived in was a hulking mass of black metal, with no markings or light emitting from it whatsoever. It was rather ominous looking, what little of it he could see.
The display indicated that all other team members were green. Felix placed his hand on the joystick in anticipation of his flaps and retrorockets being enabled. The display winked brightly, and indicated cheerfully that Felix needed to only adjust his heading six degrees starboard and he would be on perfect course. Even on perfect course, the team would be scattered over roughly ten square miles, but that was close enough.
After altering his course Felix pulled the airbrake and engaged his landing thruster. It was mounted on the bottom of the tube and would slow airspeed enough to engage the parachutes. Somehow the rumbling got even louder.
A bright streak across Felix’s front window distracted him from watching the countdown to primary chute. Was that a real shooting star or had something gone wrong with someone else? It was the latter. The display showed that Muller was in trouble. He was going three times as fast as he should be. It didn’t say why. He could have passed out, his landing thruster could have failed, airbrake broken, any number of things. Nevertheless, he was going to hit the surface much faster than safe, or even risky.
Felix’s display beeped scathingly at him. It was time to deploy primary chute. He punched the button, and felt a jolt. It now seemed he was rising, not falling at a few hundred miles per hour. Shortly, the display beeped again and Felix deployed the secondary chute. Another jolt, another rise. He was moving more slowly now, still very fast, but not as much. His landing would still be hard, but that was by design. Felix looked below him. He could make out the dark outline of the eastern edge of a continent below him. Off the coast, choppy sea.
Then Felix saw something else. A game changer. Like the discovery of America, assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, man on the moon, but bigger. Below him, as his capsule neared the dark canopy of the jungle, Felix could make out dim light, illuminating a series of artificial structures, a mile or so away. They were not constructed by human hands.
