I look down at the console. We're at 90 knots.

Ever since I was a kid, they kept telling me to slide when a hit was coming.

I never knew how to do anything but tuck in and put my shoulders down. It's what I know how to do. Hit.

It doesn't hurt so bad, really. The Argo takes a full spin across the permafrost, but there's a lot of give. It's like taking a ride on a steak knife. We spin back around until our bow is to the Northeast, and rest to a halt.