Pilot's console in the hub displayed information about Jupiter's most unpredictable feature, its bow shock - the place where the solar wind collided head-on with Jupiter's own intense magnetic field like warm air and cold air colliding over Kansas to create a tornado. The last few months of the journey, the solar wind had been a bit more intense than normal. It was not the primary force pushing Aristarchus, but Pilot realized that the outflow of charged particles from the sun was contributing more to their motion than predicted. He tried to tell himself that was the source of the vibration he knew he could feel yet the techs could not measure. Pilot took several deep breaths as the ship approached the bow shock, telling himself several small, unmanned spacecraft had done the very maneuver he hoped to accomplish, there was no reason he should be afraid.

He began a countdown, "Ten, nine, eight ...." When he got to five, his hands drifted over the sail controls, ready to adjust course to compensate for the bow shock, if needed. When he got to three, there was a loud bang. The ship hit the bow shock unexpectedly early.

Lights flickered on and off intermittently on the console. Before hitting the bow shock, Jupiter seemed to stand still. Now, it was easy to tell they were moving toward the planet. Even though the motion appeared slow, the dial on Pilot's console confirmed what he now realized, they were careening into the planet. Gently, he eased the sails around, trying to bring the ship into orbit. As he did, the ship began to shake violently, rattling his teeth. He was slowing the ship, but not fast enough. Jupiter's gravitational field, the collision of charged particles from the sun and Jupiter, along with photon pressure from both sources were causing the sails to vibrate at their resonant frequency.

"The masts are reaching critical stress," called Neb O'Connell from C-and-C. "If you don't back off the sails, they're going to snap."

"If I back off the sails, we'll go sailing right into the planet!" said Pilot through gritted teeth. "LaRue, give me some thrust! Help me out."

The ship's thrusters fired. If anything, the ship vibrated even more.

"There's a stress fracture developing on the number three sail." There was a hint of panic in Neb's voice. "We've got to do something quick or the ship's going to fly apart."

Pilot looked at the readout on his console and suddenly had a thought. He put his hands on the sail controls and locked his gaze on the clock on his console, counting down seconds.

"Prepare to jettison number three sail," called Jefferson from C-and-C. "LaRue, stand by on thruster control. Get Berko to the towing shuttle, now."

"No! You don't have time for all that. It's too late!" said Pilot.

"I'm not going to let this ship fall into the planet," said Jefferson, threateningly.

Without another word, Pilot commanded the sails to turn ninety degrees from where they were. As the sails turned, the ship shuddered hard and he almost bounced into the wall. All of the console's indicators moved into the red. Holding onto the console so hard, his knuckles turned white, he discerned something just a little hopeful. The planet began to visibly slow. As the sails reached position, the vibrations settled down.

After several achingly slow minutes, the planet drifted to the side. They were no longer plunging toward Jupiter. He counted down on his clock again, then moved the sails forty-five degrees back to normal. The console indicators crawled back into the yellow zones. One or two remained red. The ship was damaged. The question was, could it be repaired?