“The Kep Effect could benefit us,” Trak said. “But the odds are 1 in 47,048,402,4824—"
“Trak…” Daniel said, hovering in freefall and sitting cross-legged above his friend.
“40494804,” Trak finished. “You said I should always list exact probabilities, even in life and death situations. Remember?”
“Right...’ Daniel said. He didn't really remember.
Trak continued, “Anyway, as you can tell, the odds are very high that the Kep Effect will kill us before the cannon explosion.”
“So we die no matter what?” Daniel said.
“Of course,” Rachel-7 said. “But with the Kep Effect our survival odds are slightly higher.”
“Infinitesimally higher,” Trak corrected.
Daniel nodded.
Despite his predicament, Daniel was thinking more clearly. His internal medical cloud had removed most of the alcohol from his system and stored it as fuel for later.
Daniel shook his flask and saw that it was almost empty. He held it up to his mouth ... but something made him put it back in his pocket without taking that last drink.
He then pushed off the ceiling with his legs, turned in the air, and landed in his faded command chair.
Slightly more sober, he had decided he wanted to die with a little dignity in the captain’s seat.
The fact that he landed upside-down didn't help. But he soon righted himself and strapped in.
That’s right. Strapped in.
Most ships have cloud restraints. The Afterthought still had seat belts.
