. . .

“Great,” sighs Tom, as the forests of Venus spin by underneath them. Jane floats gently up to where she can position herself in her seat. “Just great.”

“Can you sight him from here?” Jane asks, but Tom just pounds his head into the dashboard and then rests it there.

“Stupid,” he says. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Worthless snake-DNA human-killing boy goddamn.”

“Tom,” she says.

“Why couldn’t it have been someone else, Jane?” he asks, and then, in almost complete contradiction to that: “I think I must deserve it. I must deserve to be alone.”

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