And then the world exploded around Foster. He clutched Dr. Hart’s work to his chest for dear life as he went hurtling through space, screaming into his helmet as he spun head over feet, every siren in his goggs screaming. But then as quickly as it began, someone grabbed his wrist. He flailed as his spinning stopped, and another hand closed around his elbow. Though he was certainly still flying through space at speed, he wasn’t spinning anymore. Instead, he was looking directly into his father’s face through a space-exposure suit, and for perhaps the first time in his whole life, he was happy
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