"Don't be so cheerful," Jason interrupted. "How about taking off these cuffs while we go down. It will probably be a rough landing and I'd like to have some kind of a chance." Mikah frowned at him. "Will you give me your word of honor that you won't try to escape during the landing?" "No. And if I gave it--would you believe it? If you let me go, you take your chances. Let neither of us think it will be any different." "I have my duty to do," Mikah said. Jason remained locked in the chair. They were in the atmosphere, the gentle sighing against the hull quickly climbed the scale to a shrill scream. The drive cut out and they were in free fall. Air friction heated the outer hull white-hot and the interior temperature quickly rose in spite of the cooling unit. "What's happening?" Mikah asked. "You seem to know more about this. Are we through--going to crash?" "Maybe. Could be only one of two things. Either the whole works has folded up--in which case we are going to be scattered in very small pieces all over the landscape, or the computer is saving itself for one last effort. I hope that's it. They build computers smart these days, all sort of problem-solving circuits. The hull and engines are in good shape--but the controls spotty and unreliable. In a case like this a good human pilot would let the ship drop as far and fast as it could before switching on the drive. Then turn it on full--thirteen gees or more, whatever he figured the passengers could take on the couches. The hull would take a beating, but who cares. The control circuits would be used the shortest amount of time in the simplest manner." "Do you think that's what is happening?" Mikah asked, getting into his acceleration chair. "That's what I _hope_ is happening. Going to unlock the cuffs before you go to bed? It could be a bad landing and we might want to go places in a hurry." Mikah considered, then took out his gun. "I'll unlock you, but I intend to shoot if you try anything. Once we are down you will be locked in again." "Thanks for small blessings," Jason said, rubbing his wrists. Deceleration jumped on them, kicked the air from their lungs in uncontrollable gasps, sank them deep into the yielding couches. Mikah's gun was pressed into his chest, too heavy to lift. It made no difference, Jason could not stand nor move. He hovered on the border of consciousness, his vision flickering behind a black and red haze. Just as suddenly the pressure was gone. They were still falling. The drive groaned in the stern of the ship and relays chattered. But it didn't start again. The two men stared at each other, unmoving, for the unmeasurable unit of time that the ship fell.