“Listen to me, Hollister. When you hit atmosphere—and you will, your trajectory says so—you’ll burn. But for one second, one forever , you’ll be a shooting star. A child in Iowa will see you. Or a farmer in Ukraine. Or a girl on a rooftop in Tokyo, counting wishes.”
Silence. Then a soft click as Stone’s oxygen failed.
“It’s real enough,” Les replied, and then his voice melted into a hymn.
“Listen to me, Hollister. When you hit atmosphere—and you will, your trajectory says so—you’ll burn. But for one second, one forever , you’ll be a shooting star. A child in Iowa will see you. Or a farmer in Ukraine. Or a girl on a rooftop in Tokyo, counting wishes.”
Silence. Then a soft click as Stone’s oxygen failed.
“It’s real enough,” Les replied, and then his voice melted into a hymn.
