<P>It cooled him down, but nonetheless, sweat still rolled down the sides of his head. The plane had started to move. He watched the cement and city and water roll slowly by outside the window. He listened as the roar of the engines deafened all other sound. He watched as the Earth itself began to slowly shrink, people degrading to ants, less than ants, little dots, and eventually become so distant they couldn't be seen. Cars became streaks of red and white light on the highways. Everything darkened.
<P>
<P>Jaime became suddenly aware that he was sweating more profusely than before. He felt warm. He pulled his collar out with one finger.
<P>
<P>Reyes leaned back to the window. The world was getting smaller, still. Things blackened. The planet got impossibly far away. Stars glimmered in view. The world vanished. Gone, lost in space. Higher than imaginable.
<P>
<P>It got hotter still.
<P>
<P>The plane sagged. Colors slid down the walls like wet paint. Everything moved in impossibly slow motion. A stewardess walked by, each step amplified to a tremendous, booming crash. Every tick of Jaime's watch pierced the air like nails in the back of his neck.
<P>
<P>And hotter still.
<P>
<P>The hulls of the plane began to suck themselves in. Walls were stretched towards each other like chunks of elastic rubber. The ceiling drooped. Pools of dripping color formed on the floor. People were frozen in place. Somewhere in the back of the plane, a baby cried.
<P>
<P>Darkness out the windows.
<P>
<P>Hotter still.
<P>
<P>His watch boomed.