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The last Intershuttle had been sent off. Frank had waved a cheerful goodbye to the crew as they had crammed into the rickety shuttle. Honestly, not another piece of sand could fit in, never mind a whole man. So it was Frank and his rapidly depleting air supply, on their own.
He had thought this problem would cone in the future, as the space station grew and people kept immigrating, but he hadn't thought it would happen quite like this. Or this soon. But the oxygen tank had cracked, somehow, and he was doomed. Funny how he'd come to space looking for freedom, a breath of fresh air, and now it was deserting him in his hour of need. 9:37The nearest station, Altira, was ten hours away. Even with a miracle, it couldn't come near enough to link up its tank in the half hour or so he had left. Mikey would make it though, and tell Gerard everything, and-And Frank was a fucking idiot, because the phones still worked, would continue to work long after Frank had been reduced to a skeleton floating eerily in space, and Frank could tell Gerard himself, and any moment the phone would ring for their nightly conversations. 9:49Frank didn't think he was imagining the faint heaviness to the air around him, or the strange smell of seaweed. Who would have thought, really, that space would smell of seaweed? In that instant it seemed important. Maybe it was. Maybe Frank would be the only man ever to know that space smelled of seaweed. 10:01The phone rang. Frank picked up the earpieces, put them in his ears, and lay down on the soft grey couch. It seemed right.
Gerard's voice was also soft and grey tonight. Soft and grey and cold seaweed, filling his lungs. "What should we talk about?"Why should he tell Gerard? Because he loved Gerard, really, but there was no use in it, not when Altira had already dismissed the desperate calls for help as rogue pirates, which was plausible but so, so wrong.
Nothing could save him now, and Gerard would understand if Frank made one selfish decision, Gerard would know, because the beauty of Gerard was that he knew and understood. "What do you think space smells like, Gee?""I don't know. What does it smell like?""I think it smells of seaweed."10:05. "Gee, can you sing?""Any requests?""Uhh, 'Asleep' by the Smiths.""Alright.""And Gee, I love you.""Love you too, Frankie."10:06Frank closed his eyes and listened to heaven in space. "Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep,
I'm tired and I want to go to bed,"It was dark and hazy. Frank swam in a salty sea. His heart and lungs strained, but somehow his mind and soul were calm, full of Gerard's voice. 10:07"Don't feel bad for me,
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart
I will feel so glad to go."The coldness was the worst part. It was numbing him, freezing his flesh, but he focussed on Gerard's voice in his ears. "Sing me to sleep."10:08 Frank died quietly, as if Death had looked at his loud, warm life and decided to kill him in a completely opposite way. Gerard finished his song. "Frankie, are you awake?"When there was no reply, he hung up the phone. Frank had always been able to fall asleep easily.