Carter memorized Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky this week, and then wrote a tribute:
I ran to the control room and said for Alabaster to gun it and get us out of here as fast as he could. With that, we took off into space and, as it turns out, that’s where we’d be for a long, long time.
We went and got Alabaster and told him about the collapse. He looked worried for a little bit but he went and got a long rope and we lowered it down into the crevice. We saved Weasel but we couldn’t the bottom of the chasm well enough so we had no idea if Dave was [...]
The arm flew back to him like a boomerang, just like he had planned and he held it up in the air in a dramatic pose, trying to look like, well, like who I don’t really know, and in any case, he was doing a dramatic pose. He let Weasel keep that arm but he did so in a confused manner. I don’t blame him. I had no idea why Weasel would have wanted a disembodied arm.
His long dexterous digits became even longer. The bulbs on the tips of his fingers and thumbs shrank until his fingertips and thumb tips became wickedly sharp. His fingers coiled up into a spring shape and his long thumbs curled slightly and slid inside the cage of fingers. Then he flicked open his fingers and thumbs and tiny green razor-sharp needles shot from the tips of his fingers and embedded themselves in the wall.
There everybody was, sitting on the various sized cots and murmuring about me and Dave in worried and hustled speech. When they saw us, for the first time in as long as I had known him, Alabaster’s jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide. Weasel paid no attention- he was still trying to open the pickle jar.