Flames shot past the windows as out pod reentered. We were hurtling at the speed of sound, straight to the Indian Ocean, without a parachute.
Back on Earth, news had just reached them that we touched down on the lunar surface. We were the second crew in a week to touch down, and we were supposed to rendezvous with the other crew an hour after we touched down. It's been three. Radio transmission has been sketchy all day, but for all we know, they could be in the shadow of a crater. I was about to rip open a pack of cheese whiz, when the radio leaning on the pod's door lit up. I sprung over to it, and brought the radio up to my ear, "Where are you guys?" I barked into the receiver.
"Just a little late...," Jim mumbled, barely loud enough for me to hear him.
"The radio lit up again, but the only sound that came out was static. "Hello?" No reply. Our radios were on a closed wavelength, the other crew were the only other people on the moon that had access to it.
"Where are they?" Jim asked through a mouthful of "mountain bread".
"Not saying, and watch out man, you're getting crumbs everywhere."
"Try radioing Phoenix, they keep tabs on our suits, right?"
"They don't have GPS on the moon bonehead."
"I know, but our navigation is based off of the stars, right? And radio triangulation stuff, so couldn't they use the radios in our suits to figure it out?"
"True. I'll ring Phoenix," I replied, as I turned a black knob on the side of the radio, "Phoenix, this is Dropcap 2, do you have any information on the whereabouts of Dropcap 1?"
"Roger that Dropcap 2. Well, based on their suits, they're still at their touchdown point."
"Which is ?"
"Half a mile due West."
"Thanks," I turned back to Jim, but before I could open my mouth: