Our ears popped as the air pressure suddenly dropped. The hiss of repair "glue" lasted about six seconds. The taste of the gooey tan stuff hung in Halcon's atmosphere sourly.

I headed down the passageway looking for the inevitable damage. I found it in the galley. Right next to one of the fresh food bins, a silver cylinder, about three inches wide and rounded at the tip. It looked like twelve inches of unexploded missile had penetrated our hull. It was sealed in place by the ...