– Oh God! Where am I? I-aaah… – a yearning cry involuntarily escaped from his dry throat…

– Hey, why are you yelling? Do you think you are the only one who feels shitty? Ha … Man, Dammit. Strike me dead… I still see you alive … Stap my vitals… – a hoarse voice came from behind the pilot and a huge shadow loomed over Mackliff. Mackliff turned slowly, and behind Whitehouse, who also had no suit on; at a little distance, he saw the tilted container, halfway gone into the sand.

Dybal has been crawling around it on his knees, searching for something with his outspread fingers.

Two motionless bodies lay in a meager shade of the container: the former commander of the space shuttle "Independence" Aydem and the former commander of the "armored car" "Das Rein" – Colonel Von Conrad.

– Well, I'm glad. I’m very happy … You know, John, you have had a very restless sleep, actually. I covered you with a piece of the parachute, and you started jerking your little hands and feet and threw it off. That’s no good. So, old man, can you get up? – Whitehouse added seriously.

Mackliff struggled to his feet and tried to hobble towards the container.

His feet would not move.

If the dune did not have a slope, he would not even budge.

While he was moving towards the container, dismissing the help of Whitehouse, Dybal finally found what he was looking for – a binocular; and rapidly, for a man who has just darted down to the ground, got on top of the container nastily grinding the metal shield of his shoes on the black wall, which was still warm from the atmospheric heat. Scales of titanium ceramics burnt in the atmosphere flew from the hull of the container:

– It is curious to know where we have ended up … Ooh, my arms and legs do not bend at all … It hurts like hell…

– Yes, Al, it is curious indeed… – Mackliff made it to the container and carefully folded his body in the shade.

– Ronnie says we are not far from the former eastern coast of Venezuela, in Caracas area, which had been covered with sands. Though his eyes tell that he hardly believes in what he says. And so to speak, where is the sea breeze? At the border of the sand and the ocean air currents are mixed constantly, and it must be blowing like in the wind tunnel. But here? Ah, what to say … – Dybal put the binoculars to his eyes and stared at the horizon. Standing on the capsule, he resembled a monument to some Ancient Mariner, who looked through binoculars at the squadron of enemy fleet…

-Well, the main thing is that we are on Earth. It is strange but we're still alive…

– Everything is relative, John. It seems to me that before the accident at "Independence", when there was light, a cold "Pepsi" and different kinds of sausage, we were a little more alive than here, where at best we can catch a weedy lizard and nothing at worst.

– Where is the second container? Where is Eichberger, Hoffman and all the supplies?

– Makliff leaned against the hull of the container, and suddenly pulled back, it was still hot from aerodynamic heating, and moreover warmed up by the sun. It was hot like hell.

– It's not clear yet. Either they landed too far from us, or did not land at all – said Whitehouse. He handed a flat jar of reactive water to Mackliff.

Flight engineer turned the release cover and gray powder filled the cap. In contact with air the powder turned into what looked like icy water in contrast to the red hot air.

Mackliff gently sipped this iron flavored liquid:

– What do we do next?

– We should at least find out our location to answer this question.