““Is there anything you want to do before we put our heads in plastic boxes for two days?' I thought about this for a second, then held the side of her face and kissed her. We both zipped up our suits just in time to see the reactor blow: a column of green radioactive fire, belching black smoke. Di squeezed my hand, our big boxy heads knocked clumsily together, and I tried to think of something romantic to say. 'Well, I guess that's why they all die of cancer.””
