He really couldn’t complain.
All those years of study. All that specialised training. He had enjoyed it all. Now, floating here in this black void with the craft getting smaller as it drifts away, with the now barely visible tether-cord trailing behind. This would have to be… no, this is… just another part of it. He heard the hiss the moment the tether snapped. The gas was being slowly released inside his suit. He could smell it, bringing relief. He was recalling the jokes about it during training. One of the recruits called it euthanasia in a spray can. He smiled to himself. Pretty good description, he thought. Back then, it was regarded as just one more aspect to learn about in the field of space pioneering. He could just let it all go now, allow this to be the inevitable end to his career. He would probably feel no pain. He knew the oxygen was running out. He could feel it growing harder to breathe. He was growing a touch heady. Was that a lack of oxygen or the tranquillity spray?
He had no idea how long he had. Not that it mattered. The senses don’t seem to keep track of time when you’re gliding out of control in space; a space that is so unimaginably vast that there seems little need to record its passing. It felt like only seconds ago that the umbilical snagged and parted, but it was probably hours.
Suddenly, he heard a second, louder hiss and a stronger more immediate smell. It was a lovely fragrance. He couldn’t remember any mention of this. He felt a wave of tiredness come over him. This must be some additional feature, he thought. Designed to provide a… a what? Some measure of kindness, no doubt.
He would sleep now…