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Kael stared at him. He looked at the time log on the wall. Jax had run eight kilometers round trip in under twelve minutes. In 1.2 Gs.

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"How?" Kael whispered. "That's... that's impossible." Kael stared at him

Jax didn't answer. He saved his breath. Every step was a negotiation with physics. His heart worked overtime just to pump blood against the oppressive weight. that's impossible

The gravity hit him—1.2 Gs. It pressed down on his shoulders, trying to crush him into the dust. But the G+ in his blood fired back. His muscle fibers, denser now on a cellular level, snapped back against the weight. His mitochondria were burning fuel at a rate that made his vision sharp and his reflexes electric.

The wind roared in his ears. He was moving faster than the Rovers ever had. The landscape blurred—rust-colored rocks and twisted metal wreckage became streaks of color. His heart hammered, but not with exhaustion; it was a turbine, spinning perfectly, feeding oxygen to a body that was finally, finally doing what it was built to do.

He hit the uphill slope of the Graveyard. This was where the gravity was at its worst, the "thick air" pooling in the lowlands. He should have been crawling. Instead, he leaned into the wind. He felt the G+ kicking into a higher gear. His perception shifted; he saw pebbles kicked up by his feet hang in the air for a subjective eternity.