Almost Home

The urgent, piercing blare of a Klaxon alarm jolted Nathan from an uneasy rest. He checked the spacecraft's computers.

"OXYGEN LEAK DETECTED—IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED."

Aw, man. I launched out across space to Planet Darius on a shoestring solo trek. Now that I'm only a couple light-years back to Earth, this happens!

Nathan scrolled through the error logs to trace the leak's source. It appeared to be the airlock seals.

If he could temporarily patch over the penetration, it might be enough to preserve oxygen until his SOS was picked up. But quickly, now; if the cabin depressurized too rapidly it would cave in.

"Mayday, mayday. The Honeybee, two light-years from Earth, is experiencing an air leak. I'm about to attempt a repair. Send assistance quickly. I'm in danger."

He repeated it twice; receiving no response, he put on his spacesuit. His hands shook as he adjusted the helmet. His heart was pounding so hard it made his vision wobble.

The protective boundaries of the suit, with CO² filters and an oxygen tank, would hold out for several hours. But the sickening prospect loomed large, of what would happen if his fragile spacecraft burst open.

He stepped through the inner airlock door into the "lobby" and unpacked his meager tools: a roll of duct tape, a tube of caulk, some waxy plugs and patching solution.

Nathan held up his hand, waving an oxygen sensor along the seals, looking for signs of seepage. Suddenly, a wheezing, rushing sound filled the chamber. Alarms rang out from his computers back in the engine room.

Nathan opened the exterior airlock door. He anchored his lifeline and cast off from his spacecraft just as the whole thing blew apart into a gazillion pieces. He found himself floating free in space, his lifeline now attached to a mere scrap of rubble.

Panic swelled inside. He curled up into the fetal position, eyes squeezed shut, denying the reality of his situation. The programming inside his suit warned him to initiate biofeedback to control his rapid heart rate and erratic breathing.

When he calmed himself enough to open his eyes, the vastness of space enveloped him. Multicolored galaxies whirled away silently, unmoved by his miniscule existence. Unreachable stars dotted the black velvet. The faraway sun peeked over the edge of Mercury, glinting off of his helmet.

Nathan marvelled at the unfathomable, untameable beauty. He thought of his family, waiting on Earth. He remembered Peter Pan, his hero, and reflected on those brave words: to die will be an awfully big adventure.

He'd done his best, chasing his dreams of being the first to complete a solo round trip to Planet Darius. Oh, how close to returning home! One last radio message:

"Nathan Price, nearing the end. If anyone's out here, let my family know I love them."

A response crackled in his ears:

"International Space Station here. Take heart. We're coming to get you. Be prepared to anchor."

Tears of relief blurred Nathan's universe.

Word Count: 499.