Ape in a Spacesuit

An astronaut is flung into the empty void of space by an accident and finds it to be not everything he expected. Loosely based on transhuman ideas.

I often wish I was a writer, and not a technical engineer. It seems a travesty that my kind, those with no skill in communication see the vast, empty void, those twinkling fusion reactions shining in their multitudes, further away than the limited human imagination can perceive, while those with real ability are grounded to the Earth. But let me tell you, even when performing routine checks on the ship, I am struck dumb by the awesome wonder of this seemingly uncreated creation. That our fragile race, clinging by chance to a little speck of dust in a chaotic ocean of duelling powers, far beyond our scale dance around each other like wedding guests at some cosmic matrimony, has the chance to be a part of this, it astounds me. Nebulae swirl and storm and give birth to explosions of awesome and terrible power that bathe the empty universe in their light. Planets spin and whirl around their parent stars as we ride in train carriages to jobs we hate, and we waste our lives away in procrastination, while the universe is a canvas of impossible wonder, beyond our full reach. Once again I am stepping out of the airlock, in my tiny pressurised bubble of air, grasping infinity once more, from behind a glass pane. We are so ill suited to most of this universe. As the airlock de pressurises, there is no sound from outside my suit, only my heavy, cumbersome breaths, and my pounding heartbeat, ecstatic like that of a lover, experiencing the warm embrace of his partner. The void is now my love, my heart's desire, and I yearn for her. My appetite is satiated as the doors slide open, and a star field, expansive and distant is laid out before my eyes. I push from the walls, as momentum is exchanged, propelling me forward, and I fall gracefully into the celestial embrace. I somersault gently and align myself with the ship, I am hurtling through space at astronomical speeds, and yet everything appears so silent, so stationary. That, I believe, is the true beauty of this place, the silence. Inhale. Removing my tools from my belt I begin to slowly propel myself towards the ship, minor repairs, I volunteered to do them happily. Exhale. I begin to reattach the peeling parts of hull, battered by a single dust particle, travelling in the opposite direction. There is a tiny air leak, nothing serious. Inhale. I often feel like I am violating this place with my presence, I am a being of planets, I am subject to damage from radiation and impact, were it not for my specie's ingenuity I would not have left the confines of Earth, and I would not be capable of surviving in this unnatural environment. Exhale. Only this environment is the most natural of all, it's just unfamiliar to my apelike brain. My presence is unnatural, but forbidden fruit is all the sweeter, I cannot keep away. Inhale. A simple turn of a screw silently releases pressurised air out of a gap in the hull, and I begin flailing wildly away from the ship. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. It becomes increasingly distant, I try to right myself with the jet propulsion system in the suit, but it is not enough. Inhale. Exhale. Panic. The ship that has been my home, only visible for a moment as I violently rotate, is now too far to hope to reach, some scrambled radio signals break the silence, but they are pointless, as I fly away, just another celestial body. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. I am an irrational ape, trained to think, I must use my training, and not become an ape in a suit, must find the human in me. Exhale. I come to an acceptance I will die in space, with my love on my every side. I have enough oxygen, water and food in the suit to last me two weeks, I may shorten that time by a few days intentionally. Inhale. My beating heart is spasmodic, I struggle to control its violence. No man should die in the void. My mind finally grasps around something solid, I am a man, capable of thought. Exhale. I am going to die, slowly in space. Inhale. I should not be afraid, indefinite life is less glorious than a timely death. So I turn, and traverse the void. Exhale.

I am deep in thought for three days, as the universe turns around me, mocking my frailty. I have shut off my radio, the ship contacted me, and informed me it had no way of collecting me, but that it would fulfil any other needs I had, I have no needs save that of rescue, so I ignore them. It is at this point I notice a slight push. It is barely there, but I think I can feel it. I do not want to rule out that the thought of death is driving me to vain hope, but something tells me I am decelerating. I am less afraid now, spending so long out in space, impossibly far from anything else living, I feel like I am privileged. Out here I am exceptional, a collection of highly complex molecules, organised to be capable of computation, on Earth I would die another man, amongst many men.

After five days of this journey, I have come to contemplate my existence in its entirety. I suppose most men would look to God in this time, in the hope of some miracle. I have never believed in such things, but on the off chance, I have been attempting to speak to him. My rotation has slowed, there can be no doubt, I spent a day counting the seconds between full turns, and it has now reached a very slow rate, in addition the force pressing against me has not relented, it seems I am being slowed by micrometeorites or dust particles, perhaps even some vast low density gas field, such fields are not impossible I suppose. I have decided to end my own life in a few short days, I do not wish to die of hunger or thirst, or suffocate, not without choosing to do so anyway. For the first time in my technologically enhanced existence, I feel helpless. Helpless but not fearful.

I have stopped turning. Before me is a vast nebula, it does not swing periodically into view, a momentary glimpse of sheer beauty, instead it is suspended in infinite space, directly in front of me. To be alone, only this thin pane of viewing glass separating me from this immense construct, shaped over aeons, long before we came to this place as wandering nomads, it is near maddening. The violent splashes of colour and stars, part way through their birth, a birth that lasts longer than the lifespan of human civilisation. To be assaulted by this berserk serenity, this noisome silence, I cannot bear it, it makes me ashamed, the ape among the stars, the mortal among Gods. My hand reaches to the suit controls at my belt, and I begin to let the air escape, propelling me forward towards the nebula, a final voyage of this lonely mariner. As my suit becomes a vessel for the vacuum of space I remove my helmet, breathing one last time. Exhale. My senses panic, and tell me to breathe in, I humour them and draw in emptiness, it is paradoxically comforting. As I begin to lose my grip on my world, I hear a voice sound in my mind.

“Nomad”

Blood begins to trickle from my eyes as vessels close to the surface burst and spew my life across the universe.

“Human”

The voice does not mock, but seems to be in adoration, I am losing sense now, my minute and a half of unsustained life are nearly finished. The nebula, it's twisting and sporadic form reaching across my sight, like a splash of paint from the brush of a madman artist, begins to drift from view.

“You do not yet understand your place in this universe, you do not yet see your potential, you are afraid and alone, clinging to your rock in remote space, you are far from home”

I am surprised I am still alive this long, my mind casts back to the unfamiliar force, pushing me to a stop, and the voice, perhaps not just an illusion of my mind.

“I am proud of your species, they are not exceptional, or impressive, or intelligent, but they understand that there is so much more that they can be.”

I am becoming cold, the limited exchange of heat into the vacuum, though slow, has begun to take hold, blood is now oozing from my fragile mammalian form, this disgusting biological mess that I call a body, so ill suited to the majority of the universe.

“And your kind will become something more, so long as they do not cling to the form that now betrays you Nomad.”

Why...does...it call me...Nomad? I think briefly of Earth, that pale speck in an uncaring universe, I can only pray the voice is right. As the nebula warps and twists in my vision, and space becomes ever darker. My heart slows, as it prepares for eternity with my dearest love.

Author's Note

Ignore any errors for now, I will get to cleaning it up eventually. This was essentially an experiment, please give me some results to pore over.

Reviews

[Eric]

Interesting read. I liked the story. I wish there could have been some breaks in the first super paragraph. In fact I didn't all that much like the first half of the super paragraph...that might have been because it was difficult to read or because the information talk to much about nothing new. After that section of the story, you did a good job portraying the scenery, his emotions, and his quick fated choices.

Also I think that his death would have been more violent. Water (in blood plasma, in each individual cell, ect) vaporizes in low pressure environments