Davis wakes up panicky in pitch darkness, vaguely recalling being drugged and enduring terrible nightmares, pressure, and pain. He hates freefall and curses the wake-up recording and light switch he cannot find without his left arm. In the light, the cabin is claustrophobic. Prof looks dead and Davis envies him, but jabs him with heart stimulant, figuring it cannot hurt. The clock shows they will soon be jolted into parking orbit and then start the landing program. Insertion to parking orbit is 33 seconds of agony almost as bad as that endured by his ancestor in Salem. Davis opts not to drug himself for re-entry, preferring to experience his final moments of life. The G forces are bad, splash down far from "gentle," and seasickness is horrible. When they are picked.....
