Free Orb by Gary Tarulli Page A

velocity to two hundred kilometers per hour and brought us to within a ship’s width of the water surface. The regained experience of motion was exhilarating—despite the fact we were traveling at a mere one ten-thousandth the velocity of the last three months.
    A group decision had been made to select a landing site based on satisfaction of three criteria: A relatively flat landing surface, geological significance, and (Melhaus would deny it) natural beauty. The first land mass encountered was a tiny island no larger than five kilometers square. A collection of sharp rock slabs rising dramatically from the ocean, it was unanimously deemed unacceptable. A neighboring island, twice the size, was a bit more interesting—but not sufficiently enticing for Thompson, despite our protestations, to put down.
    A few moments later
Desio’s
control panel displayed yet another isolated island, out of eyesight, over the horizon. This became our new destination, only minutes away. We had become increasingly impatient to land, and so, despite Thompson’s obvious best efforts at finding a suitable location, Kelly felt obliged to make him the object of some divertissement.
    “Diana,” she said, “I was wondering if you, like me, agree with this basic and universal premise: That most men are too stubborn to ask for navigational assistance.”
    “Well, Kelly,” Diana responded, “I’m not so sure I can agree.”
    I could see by the looks exchanged between the two conspirators that they were going to work this theme … and work it good. Paul and I exchanged our own glances and leaned back to enjoy.
    “And why is that, Diana? Why don’t you agree? Do you think I’m being a bit sexist?”
    “Why no, Kelly, not exactly. You see, I’m having a little trouble with the word ‘most.’”
    “Perhaps that is a bit extreme, Diana. Perhaps I should have said ‘many’, or ‘a lot’, or perhaps ‘a high percentage’”.
    “No, Kelly, that won’t do. That won’t do at all. No, I was thinking more in the line of words such as ‘all’, or ‘every’ or ‘a staggeringly high percent.’”
    “And I,” interrupted Thompson, “am thinking of words such as “stifle”, “muzzle”, and ‘gag.’”
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Kelly, feigning surprise, “you don’t think we were referring to you, do you?”
    “What could give me that crazy idea?” Thompson responded. “But if either of you would like to assume the flight controls….”
    “Oh, no!” Diana said in shock, “We would never think of such a thing, would we, Kelly?”
    “Never.”
    “Personally,” Paul said, “I’d give the man a break. Being ten kilometers off out of seven-hundred-trillion isn’t too shabby.”
    And so the little comic scene played out, the actors knowing full well that Melhaus was the only other crew member rated to pilot the ship. Moreover, Thompson would never relinquish control.
    A minute later he pointed out a land mass lifting itself from the horizon.
    “I see it!” shouted Diana.
    As we approached and obtained our first close-up view of the island, Thompson, an excited edge to his voice, asked, “Have any of you been to Moscow?”
    “No,” Diana said, confused. “And I’m not likely to get there any time soon.”
    “That’s what you think,” Thompson replied, further reducing our forward speed. “Make preparations. We’ll be landing on Red Square in two minutes.”
    There, lofting into the sky in front of us, were crudely sculpted replicas of the spires, towers and twisted turrets of St. Basil’s and Kazan’s Cathedrals—two of the iconic buildings bordering Red Square. Stone testaments resisting time and the elements, the towering pillars, six score or more, varied in height from fifty meters to those soaring two hundred meters; all were bathed in muted tones of yellows, browns and golds with striking darker veins of like color spiraling throughout.
    In front of these impressive natural formations—and