"At Thirteen thousand meters altitude above the Indian Ocean, it even came to mind to ask instinctively: Now who the fuck will keep this transatlantic airborne?" It's ironic that this question is posed by the Captain of an Airbus, left without fuel in mid flight. At this dramatic moment, memories arise, regrets and recriminations in his life lucidly flashes like a film, with all his dreams, determination and awareness. Why should a life be worth more than an ounce of gold?