He smiles at the challenge while the rain hammers soundlessly on the skin and the window sensors. At the appropriate moment, he reducts the engines and pogos over the treeline of the island to an unsteady hover in the driving rain. There is an estate beyond the trees, lights like home in the rain. The pilot nestles his charge onto the lawn, deploying broad landing pads to disperse the weight, and ducting the engines mostly to the side to bear some of the load. The rain sheets and the vehicle rocks slightly, stabilized by the pads.
Light spills down the gangway as the passenger emerges, clad and hooded against the weather.
The figure hurries away across the lawn, where it encounteres another. The two old men huddle together against the wind and the rain, trading a handshake and a smile. The spray dampens his face with a sudden gust. Go home, enjoy your wonderful world and your old face. I'll do my part now.