Afraid nothing short of a miracle will save your ship, you make the sad choice to eject. You pull a bright red handle beside you and you are exploded out into the cool air. You allow the same winds that fouled your entry to buffet you about for a moment. Your parachute would do you no good until you fell below the turbulence. There's really no 'waiting' at 60 feet per second, but for lack of a better word thats what you do, eyes covered to protect from any particles the wind might hurl at you.
When you finally feel the wind die to a reasonable level and engage your shoot, you take a look down to survey your new home, for better or for worse. To your surprise you'd descended quite far for you could already make out the tops of individual trees. Looking to either horizon, you realize your initial guess was right, the trees below are only a park in the midst of a teeming city. To your eye it could be any city in America except perhaps that it technological level was more late twentieth century.
'Strange,' you think after a quite while of gradual descent. "I should have touched down by now... and yet the scene below seems only the slightest bit closer.'
The answer to your question buzzes up infront of you, a wasp the size of a Cessna 172. You see yourself reflected a thousand times in its compound eyes as it dives in your direction, stinger at the ready.
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