Objects in Space

This seems like an incredibly stupid way to die.

The stars wheel, but my vertigo is already long gone.

Thrown out of a ship into the vacuum of space. I mean, honestly, what sort of Star Trek end is this for a guy in a red shirt?

The air gauge slips ever downward, slowly as possible. God either does not exist and some evil force is toying with me or I have done some unspeakable cruel thing and God wishes to punish me. The planet I am suspended above is mostly blue, very pretty to watch as a spin about slowly on some invisible and highly erratic axis.

The hell is the point of a pretty scene? Death puts many things into clarity. I am going to die in, oh, around twenty minutes, and I am enjoying the scenery. It’s not as if I have anything better to do, it’s just that I wish I did.

Something like not die.

Yeah, that would be infinitely more comfortable to have on the agenda. Being in space is an exhilarating feeling- when you’re cabled to a ship or in the magnetic field of a cruiser. The black spaces between the distant pinpoints of old light are filled with faces. The worst thing to see as you slowly dither on the edge of death is your mother weeping at your funeral. I want to scream at her, scream to just shut up and toss the ashes into the sea already. But if I scream, I’ll use up all of my air.

No need to waste it.

The face of my little boy, who will be growing up without a father, is almost more than I can take. I shut my eyes and clamp my teeth together, trying not to cry and use up all of my air. The precious little molecules flutter around my face in their infinite motion, but I feel still. I wish selfishly for a moment that I had gone down saving children or fighting giant creatures. If I had done something with my life other than smoke, curse, and be thrown out of a hanger into the void, maybe I’d be getting a medal on my urn for my mother to keep after the ashes are scattered and her glowing ash-ring is made. But no, I’m just floating here wishing I had been less of a prick.

You don’t get the chance to make up for it very often, do you? Damn those old people and their correct philosophies- and damn us young ones for being too far up our own asses to listen.

The boy is playing; the ball is frozen in midair. I can almost feel the breeze.

Why die here when I can die there?

A song from long ago pollutes my thoughts. Before I realize what I am doing, I being to hum. The boy frozen in stride with his ball in the air remains an imprint on my mind.

Hmmmm hm hmmmm, hmmmm hm hmmmm…

Shouldn’t I be conserving my air? The stars wheel overhead once again. I continue humming.

Five minutes into humming and I am singing. The gauge slips further downwards at double speed.

Edelweiß, Edelweiß,

Du grüßt mich jeden Morgen,

Sehe ich dich,

Freue ich mich,

Und vergess' meine Sorgen.

Schmücke das Heimatland,

Schön und weiß,

Blühest wie die Sterne.

Edelweiß, Edelweiß,

Ach, ich hab dich so gerne.

Isn’t that Rogers and Hammerstein? I hated that shit when I was a teenager.

But I remember liking it when I was younger.

Edelweiß, Edelweiß,

Ach, ich hab dich so gerne.

There’s a lot of black in the sky now. The gauge is three ticks from the big E. Panic, refill, get back inside where you belong.

Edelweiß, Edelweiß,

Ach, ich hab dich so gerne.

I remember, it’s the Sound of Music. Damn I loved that… but only when I was four, like the little boy.

The black is getting bigger still.

Well, hell. Maybe I always loved it. Maybe I always loved a lot of things.

The black is complete.

“Sir?”

“Go ahead, Major,”

“We’ve got a humanoid, sir,”

“Well, rescue the poor bloke, for Christ’s sake!”

“He’s dead, sir,”

Silence.

“Well, get him up here anyhow. We can at least put him back where he came from. Can you play his last recording from the jumper?”

“I can try, sir,”

Silence. Static.

“I got it, sir,”

“Well, go on,”

Silence.

Edelweiss, Edelweiss,

You look happy to meet me...