"We just passed Jupiter," I said, watching the giant pass, roiling with storms, by the starboard window. "Again."
"Yeah," he said, not turning from the cockpit controls. "It's called a gravity assist."
I checked my watch. The conference was set to begin in two hours. At our current rate of speed, I might make it to Proxima Centauri in five years.
"Could you just make the jump? I'm kind of in a hurry." The kid grimaced.
"You have any idea what jumping from this speed will do to my fuel ratios?" I sighed. Next time, I'd just take the bus.
YOU ARE READING
Everyday DrabblesShort Story
A drabble is a very short story one hundred words long. No more, no less. They are designed for maximum impact in the least amount of space. For 2019, I'll be posting a drabble every day.