Susan dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter that seemed to shake the suddenly silent cabin. She wasn’t the only one.
“Cooked?” the President barely choked out the word.
“Yes, only partially, but yes. He’d been superheated inside his cockpit.”
“Cooked?” The President repeated. Hard to blame him; it was too unreal.
“Did you wish me to repeat that, Roy? The word is accurate. Verifiable by simple observation without any conjectural inaccuracies. His flightsuit and seat showed significant signs of burning. As did his face protected only by his visor.” And Miranda began cutting into her roast chicken. “Internally he was—”
“I don’t need any more details on that.” The President looked positively ill.
“If you like. It may not be directly connected to the cause, however it is relevant
