Space Oddity I

[hellomajortom]

The radio crackled and broke. It happened. Interference was still a big problem in space flights but he was prepared for it to happen. He waited for a repeat. That was the protocol, no response in 10 seconds there'd be a repeat. None came. Tom figured it was the comm in the helmet, after all they weren't sure about the radiation yet with regards to the equipment.

Inside things seemed normal and he called down to ground control. Nothing. That's when he noticed the panel with the connection light out, and another. Tom knew too much. He knew what it meant. Radiation poisoning and probably EMP of some sort burning out his systems.

Comms were still up and he frowned at it. A lovely blonde woman in a veil flashed in his mind and it pulled tears. How many times had she asked that he stay on the ground? He pulled up the mic and spoke.

“Tell my wife I love her very much.” He managed those words without his voice cracking then turned to look out the view window at Earth. It was receding to his right. He'd missed a thruster burn, was off course and drifting out of orbit. In desperation he pulled off the darkened thruster panel to follow the leads, look for a fix. He wasn't even thirty and he didn't want to die up here alone. It was manic, crazy probably. With how much had gone dark his intellect knew it was a major malfuction, but the lizard brain that scrambled for survival at all costs was in full swing.

The air felt weird, hanging limp. His eyes left the wires to see the air recycler was down. “Fuck!!”

He scrambled for the helmet, fitted it in place but left the valves open. He could breathe the air in the capsule until it was too low then shift to the walking tanks. It would give him an extra.. 20 minutes maybe longer. Back to the thrusters but it was useless. Nothing was wrong in the wires or the batteries. Tom paused at the small window to glare at the sun. Particles kicking off the sun were most likely to blame for this mess.

He gave in and strapped himself into the seat again. The string of swear words that poured out was meaningless. Frustrated. Then training took over and acceptance. He pulled up the pad where he would have written notes about the experimental data. His first inclination was to write a letter to his wife. The capsule was still close enough to Earth that it would probably get dragged back in by gravity. It would probably land in water. It would be retrieved. It was a last ditch mental exercise for sanity when he knew he was going to die. Instead of writing though when pen came to paper he drew. The Earth from space and the sun behind it like a halo.

How long he had been drawing, couldn't even check. The clock was dead too. The headache from low oxygen was there though and the faint feeling. Tom set everything down and tried not to panic. Resolve was running up against animal instinct to survive. Only here there wasn't any where to run from the killer creeping in. He was barely aware of the shifting in the capsule, a jolt like bumper cars at a faire.

He couldn't focus enough to trace what those bumps were. The cold was so cold now and the oxygen so low he was reminded of descriptions of people who had drowned in cold water. No one was coming to pull him from this lake but drowning was the same; cold and no oxygen accompanied by a slow brain death marked by panic. The thoughts were so hazy and dark. The whole of the universe had fallen silent.

Then it wasn't. Tom jolted awake on a high that felt like he'd been jabbed with adreneline. There was light, so much light against the headache that had him screaming whether he wanted to or not. His face was covered and his voice seemed paralyzed. He struggled with limp limbs and no real direction. Survival instincts were rising fast under whatever the drug was that had hit him with that jolt. Another three... four... maybe even five rounds of this panic and unconsciousness happened. Maybe it was more . Tom wondered if this was what it felt like when you died. Maybe he was experiencing death and just hadn't realized it yet?

When his eyes opened he was in a full face mask, strapped down in a dimly lit cold space. It was plain black in every direction he could see. It wasn't far since his head was strapped in place. His body felt light and tingly. Maybe this was still death happening. The darkness before the tunnel of light?

Then there was something white that passed into his field of view, hoses springing out all over. The yellow eyes caused him to scream and panic. Alien! What in God's creation? He kept screaming until the patient calm of the face let it stop. Tom stared at it unable to look away or blink.

Another came over and there was a discussion. He focused on the language even if it was muffled by the contraption on his head. No one needed language to understand what was happening. The second one was unhappy. The first one defiant and the topic was divulged by the glances at his prone and strapped down form. Thousands of science fiction movies and stories came to mind of evil aliens and humans being taken or replaced. It haunted him in the silence while the barely audible discussion went on. He frightened himself so much that he must have passed out.

Time had passed. The head thing and shield were gone. He was breathing air but still strapped in place. Tom saw all the tubes coming from a glowing orb to his arm with a fluid moving through it. He wanted to tear it out but then realized the pounding headache and blurred vision from the low oxygen was gone.

He must have said it out loud because a high pitched purring but gentle voice came with an answer from somewhere above his bed where he couldn't see. Someone was there though because the hoses were bouncing around. “I do not understand your time recording.”

The words were formal and odd like a TV broadcaster. Too formal, almost not human. Well, they were aliens. Tom's brow furrowed up wondering how aliens, so obviously aliens, knew human language.

“You have ten treatments remaining before you can be released.”

She, or he assumed she from the narrow waist and soft looking body, came around to look at him. Those egg yolk yellow eyes with tiny slits caused true fear. It was like the fear of a tornado or a charging tiger.. innate and there without learning.

“..treatments?” His throat felt rough and unused. He couldn't place how long he'd been here.

“You were found in your vehicle without oxygen. We know your species requires oxygen.” She was working on the hoses, so many of them and without words he would have assumed she was ignoring him. “Your body was breaking down from....”

She paused and stepped to the bedside to stare down at him. She had no hair and her limbs were grotesquely proportioned. Her whole body looked stretched out. He distracted himself with his own thoughts about how that would happen if only to avoid the lidless looking stare.

“..gamma radiation.” she finally said and stepped away.

She had been thinking about a human word he realized somewhere in the thoughts assaulting his attention. “How long have I been here?”

“I do not know human time.”

He tried something different because obviously this species or race or whatever.. these aliens were close to Earth. That was chilling and he put it off for now. “How many times did the Earth go around?”

There was another pause and her face came back to his field of view. This time he saw nearly translucent lids blink over them. “Five twelves if it has constant spin.”

That answer instantly relaxed him. Something about the science and math inherent in those words were familiar enough.

“You will sleep more while the repairs are made by our …....” the pause dragged on again as the woman-alien blinked. “medicine.”

It was weird to think she was struggling to remember like a human out of practice with a foreign language. Whatever they were giving him pulled him into sleep again in the middle of those, oddly comforting and human thoughts.