later, on new year's eve in Barcelona, i dreamed i was flying faster than ever before at the controls of an invisible airplane. my sorties, over the mountain-desert and always in starlight, ended in my ejection and floating down from a comfortable—beautiful—height. the moments of falling before the parachute opened were exhilarating. as the missions went on, i flew lower and lower, not getting the same weightless time before i had to open the parachute. the last time i almost didn't make it.