Velocity To Never Exceed

Chapter 6

So as much as I despise living in this hellhole and slowly losing my grip on reality, it's also the only thing keeping me alive.

That is, if you call this living.

Sibyl Erly spills her drink all over herself again, and a minute later the turbulence causes an overhead luggage compartment a few rows back to snap open. Heather rushes towards it, repositions the luggage and slams it shut, and then heads towards the front of the plane. I close my eyes, as the shaking continues.

My conversation with Dekor Asher from a hundred or so loops ago, flashes through my mind. I jolt, in horror. I'm the thought experiment, aren't I? I'm the one stuck inside this time loop, with an agent that can kill me. A crashing plane. It's me that could, hypothetically, be both dead and alive at the same time.

The thought haunts me to my core. While I'm stuck in this metal coffin flying through the sky, I'm both dead and alive at the same time. And until the metaphorical box opens and this loop is finally broken, no one – including me – will ever never know which it is. Whether I end up being... dead or alive?

I'm the cat in the box.

I sit, frozen by the thought, until Cheyanne places a Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of me. It's only lukewarm but I swallow it in one long gulp, knowing I'll need the caffeinated boost if I'm going to pull off what I'm thinking of doing.

It's a plan I had at least fifty loops ago, but never had the nerve to try before.

Until now.

I eye the front of the cabin. An open bathroom door closes, and then I eye the snack cart, stowed in the corner. No one is near it.

It's unattended. Just waiting for me.

The caffeine buzzes through me, wakening my limbs with a wild energy. Before I can think twice, I'm in the aisle. Around now, I usually head towards the back of the plane to try to help Janelle Fiori from collapsing, or to throw myself into another four-minute session with Dr. Sheryl. Or sometimes, just to lose myself in a TV series on someone's laptop that I've already watched a dozen times.

But this time I'm heading to the front of the plane. I pass Rion in 5F sleeping as always, but this time I pay him no attention as I keep moving. Then I'm at the front of the plane, next to the closed hatch leading to the cockpit.

I rest my hand against the door, almost in some sort of prayer. I imagine the pilot, just a few feet away from me, and wish I could reach him somehow. Warn him what's about to happen.

I've tried so many times to get into the cockpit. It's virtually impossible. I've tried screaming, too. I can't count the number of times I've shouted at the top of the lungs to the pilot and co-pilot. CAN YOU HEAR ME? THE PLANE IS GOING TO CRASH! I once screamed, until I was restrained. YOU HAVE TO STOP THE NOSEDIVE! I yelled another time, on repeat, until I was tackled and held flat against the floor. But it never changed anything. I have no idea if they even heard me. It could be super loud in the cockpit from the wind, or they might be trained to stay inside when a crazed passenger is on the loose. Probably both.

But this time I'm going to try to get the pilot's attention a different way. Or at the very least I hope I'll be able to get the pilot to do something slightly different, change his course of action in some small way, and somehow stop the nosedive.

After all, one tiny, imperceptible moment has the ability to change everything.

I grip my hands around the metal handle of the flight attendant's cart that's stowed in the corner, and kick the foot brake to unlock the wheels. Then I'm pushing the cart backwards, down the aisle. When I reach the fifteenth row, I have plenty of room ahead of me.