Three, two one and zero. Countdown is over, the biggest-ever lift begun. Voices come from bellow-asking after fuel, oxygen and amps. All necessary of course, They get the replies and answer \"Roger\". Roger. Flight path is good:69 degrees.
Is Someone playing an accordion ? Impossible, there are no accordions within miles. And yet there's music-does it exist or is it just imagination? Roger. Cabin pressure holding at 6.1, okay. Gravitation forces building to 6. What a view! Roger, they say again. You're off: seven orbits.
Surrender.