Paul and I hovered on the spacepad, looking out to the lush surroundings beyond the spaceport. I unclenched my fists trying to appear relaxed.

Isis was inside a carriage drawn by six white horses and peering out towards us. She lifted her arm and waved.

I waved back and headed in, hiding my expression. “We won’t see such beauty again for some time.”

[At this point as a writer you can mislead the reader – is Glenn unclenching his fists and hiding his expression because he is happy to leave or unhappy? You can continue to keep the reader guessing or reveal more depending on your next scene, the plot, or to build tension]

Paul waved, followed me in and a crewmember sealed the hatch and us inside the ranger. He said, “We’ll be cooped up in here for some time, Glenn. At least it’s a decent size.”

The ranger was sixty-nine metrons in length, fifty metrons high, and fifty wide. It had a sharp nose that could detach with fully independent systems for two. It was big enough for me to escape and work out why I dreaded leaving Isis but at the same time felt relief.

I headed down the main central passage and touched a GELpad. “Tell the pilot we are ready to go.” I was proud that my voice was steady and authoritative, even so, Paul knew me too well and I had to get away to think.

“Yes, sir,” the voice through the comms sounded.

I headed to my cabin feeling sick to the core and left Paul to his own devices.

Compare this to First Person – Distant