Michael holds her hand tightly, folds himself against her. It’s good to be connected in this moment, to be anchored, and he’s still hungry for any contact with her. All day he’s been bordering on clingy, despite his space-related distraction.
He silently agrees with Lee’s ‘Who knows how anyone does anything’ sentiment, and approves when the animated ship comes back on the screen. The audio communications talk about the current distance, altitude, and speed of the shuttle, and the clock continues to count down. A constant pinging, like a radar, sounds in the background. Eventually the image of the ship is replaced by what looks like something cruising across the surface of the moon. It’s still not real footage yet, but there are only a few minutes left. He’s tensing up again, neck and shoulders rigid against Lee’s.
This is important. Don’t ruin this. Pay attention. It’s a transmission. An order. He hates that they still come to him. He’s already trying as hard as he can.