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The book: Wings of Dawn, by Sigmund Brouwer.
The line: He clapped his hands twice.
He clapped his hands twice. Nothing happened. Strange, it’s always worked before. He kicked the interface and clapped again. this time the ship hummed to life and the lights on the display blinked beneath a thick layer of dust. Sig sat in the pilot chair and blew on the console. The nav computer screen glowed green, happily showing their safe arrival at Herion 1 on May 23rd, Earth Year 2015, and today’s date of March 10, Earth Year 2020.
Stunned, Sig leaned back in the pilot chair. “Five years?” he said, “How can that be?” Think, Sig. Your last memory–was docking.
Sig stood. The computer must be wrong. Something must’ve messed with its clock during their landing. He left the cockpit with purpose and lowered the ramp to leave his faithful–if delusional–starship.
Before he could take a step a woman leapt onto the ramp and ran to his side. “Sig! What did you find?”
“Who are you?” demanded Sig.
She blinked. “Funny, Sig. We don’t have time for this.”