Mens (english version)
17.
I quickly saw the whole procedure again; I was about to enter the ionosphere, but I owed riprogrammare the rout to reach the new apparent target: the near costonis of rock to the real target. The change of rout imposed me a different approach to the atmosphere Martian, according to an angle of a little anymore next to the tangency. In almost irrelevant measure, however. The systems suggested me speed and direction. The propulsion was still contrary to the sense of march, but by now the deceleration it was about to end: my vehicle had made its time, I had to detach surrendering the motors of it to their destiny.
Of sudden around me something changed: in the infrared gang my mean and I changed tonality.
I had entered the ionosphere. The propellers extinguished forever him. The temperature climbed in hurry, weak languages of flame surrounded me, at first timidly; then they flashed definite, caressing my body, arricciolandosi around the spigolositàs of my lower case vessel.
An unexpected show.
I didn't have problems: my body had been built for bearing this and other. Nevertheless the limbs worried me; they appeared so fragile that for some temetti to see consumed them to me from the heat.
Obviously it didn't happen. I felt me foolish.
I overcame the ionosphere I cure and except; to the infrared one the things returned normal, even if I stayed however more heat of when I was in the external space.
The moment came to detach me from the vehicle.
It was easy: in the exabyte I opened a window with the procedures and the parameters of landing; I shaped the system in an instant and that did everything from itself. I felt a push, a light sound brought me by the atmosphere Martian; then the propellers got further, malridotti since the entry in the ionosphere, and I fell in free fall entirely bound to the hold of load.
Under of me it raged the storm, now visible in the details: strips of clouds of sand torn by the violence of the wind as breadths snakes were run after, competing above the reddish ground; at times they overlapped, melting himself/herself/itself among them, other times they seemed to sideways strike him as auto in a mad and unreasonable run.
I could not do anything else other than to fall downward, aware of to fall in acceleration.
The first sporadic hazes me they hurled him against, agglomerated of grains rust escaped the chaotic motion eppur organized of the sandy tides in surface.
«Oh, God» I murmured.
I was afraid. I was not prepared to everything this.
I tried not to look assembling me on the suggestions of the exabyte. Some numerettis appeared to center screen: a countdown for the opening of the parachutes. One minute.
I was struck now everywhere; I was not in the storm yet, but some irregular gust succeeded in climbing in quota whipping me. If I/you had had a human body I would have beaten the teeth, for more than a motive.
Daylight. His/her nephews. The Earth.
Thirty seconds.
I had been a crazy person to accept. And you/they had been crazy to propose me him, that trip. Also with a big database of support I stayed aimlessly an ignorantone in the space.
It owed the mayor to be really desperate to ask to go me. And I was more conceited person and pedant of that that I believed. The power of my iron body had given me to the head, it was obvious.
Ten seconds. A window opened me before"; opening parachute" it said. I had to be me to give the ok.
The countdown concluded him on him zero but me not cliccai: the storm had not caught me yet, the telemetry could not help me with all that troubles but the instinct it told me that the surface was distant. The writing from now on to me it began to shine pulsating.
«Of accord, of accord» I murmured.
And I was inside an infernal bedlam.
For how much me was mentally prepared, the unprovided one I was taken to. I tumbled and I tumbled, incapable to see something except an uniform terrorizzante obscurity.
With an effort. cliccai.
A tear; no, more than one. I didn't see anything. Above of I hoped that the parachutes had opened, all how much.
I didn't have any perception of motion, only a sequence of messy accelerations, rotations, overturn.
How long would it be due to pass for the impact? I didn't remember anything. I looked for the information in the exabyte but I was not shiny and I was not enough quick.
The impact arrived and was hard: I struck of graze a dune sinking of a beautiful po', but I immediately bounced to the insù rotating as a crazy person. I bounced and I bounced, anchor, without seeing nothing or almost, or perhaps as soon as a glint in the middle of the maddish uproar.
Then the world extinguished him.